Cribbed from last year.
1. What did you do in 2012 that you’d never done before?
I worked full-time for an entire year as a parent. (I haven't worked full-time for a whole year in over a decade -- since before my children were born.) I enjoyed the work but then two weeks ago my manager, who I greatly respected and from whom I learned a lot, got laid off. That's cast a pall over the whole year.
2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I wrote last year that I'd made goals for this year, but damn if I can remember even one of them! If I make any for next year, I'll capture it here for reference.
3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
My cousin Kirsten had a baby last year on the day before Christmas; and this fall my cousin Frank's wife had a baby. Frank is enamoured of that baby. It's so funny and amazing.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
My cousin Corey died of colon cancer. I didn't know him well but his death hit me hard. He was only 21. He died right after Sasha's birthday. I keep thinking of his mother.
5. What countries did you visit?
Disneyland!
6. What would you like to have in 2013 that you lacked in 2012?
I'd like more time to play with my kids. It's hard to work full-time and parent and wife (is that a verb? "to wife"?) and manage a household; it's hard to decide what to leave undone. This year I think I parented well, but I would have liked time to just play with my kids, you know?
7. What dates from 2012 remain etched upon your memory, and why?
Dates don't etch on my memory. I can't focus on details. However I won't easily forget the week I thought I was going to die of breast cancer. (See #10, below.)
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I was the business analyst on a six-month-long project to make a Drupal website multilingual and local, where local means that customers see a certain amount of content targeted to their country. The German site came online in October with no errors. That was a pretty cool project.
9. What was your biggest failure?
In the decade of my 30s, I learned to accept help; in the decade of my 40s, I need to learn to give help. I haven't learned it yet. I'm too ... how to say ... aloof.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
You bet. Two weeks ago I had a hyper-cellular fibroadenoma surgically removed. It was benign and the surgery was nothing to speak of, but recovering from the anesthesia... GAH. It was like they'd sucked a day of my life away.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
This year my husband threw everything he's got at curing the pain in his legs, which turns out to be bursitis. I personally only bought one thing to help with that, but I supported him as he went to see doctors and physical therapists and chiropractors &c. He's not better yet. But he's getting there.
If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything.
12. Where did most of your money go?
Most of it went to Bank of America, holders of our mortgage. You're welcome, Bank of America.
13. What did you get really excited about?
We had some really great days at the mountain this year; but I think I was most excited about my son's flight off Pine Mountain in a paraglider.
14. What song will always remind you of 2012?
Gangnam Minecraft Style. Ha!
15. Compared to this time last year, are you:
– happier or sadder? At work, at least, I was much happier. A good manager makes all the difference
– thinner or fatter? The same
– richer or poorer? The same
16. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Yoga. My body is old enough that yoga makes me feel better than a good night's sleep. Weird, huh?
17. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Sitting!
18. How did you spend Christmas?
At my house with my baby sister and her husband and my exuberant nephew and my own children and my husband, and my other sister and her husband and my parents, and my husband's parents, and my husband's sisters and his brother and his brothers-in-law and our more sedate older niece and nephew and our nephew's girlfriend.
And five dogs.
It was awesome.
19. What was your favorite TV program?
Wild Kratts. I don't watch it myself but Sasha does -- she records each episode and watches it over and over and over and over -- and lord almighty, that girl knows a heck of a lot about animals. The Kratt Brothers rule.
20. What were your favorite books of the year?
I won't say it's my favorite, but Far From the Tree has really stayed with me. I think about it all the time.
21. What was your favorite music from this year?
Rose's Pawn Shop. We saw them at McMenamin's with Blake's best friend and his parents, and I tell you, I will not soon forget the sight of my two children rockin' out. They are uninhibited, those children.
22. What were your favorite films of the year?
I don't watch many movies. I don't know why. I never have.
23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned forty one and I don't remember what I did, which seems appropriate.
24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A week's vacation with just my husband. Sigh.
25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2012?
I bought this dress in turquoise and wore it with these socks (in espresso) and although it was a bit Pippi Longstocking-ish, my oh-so-stylish French co-worker said I could get away with it because of my gray hair.
So you could say my personal fashion concept is youthful athleticism + gray hair.
26. What kept you sane?
My funny, smart, loving children; and my funny, smart, loving husband; and all my funny, um, extended family. (Hee!)
27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2012.
When I thought I might be dying of cancer, I only had one regret. May it continue to be so.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Tuesday, November 06, 2012
Off the off-the-beaten-path
Saturday afternoon my son and I walked from here to the top of Pilot Butte and back. It's six miles round-trip. It took us 3 1/2 hours — but that's because we stopped twice (once to buy food and once to buy books).
Blake talked the whole way. The whole way. He isn't much of a talker generally so I considered it a rare treat. He explained his theory about life, the universe and everything: a fascinating synthesis of the world views espoused in the Guardians of Ga'Hoole books, the Septimus Heap books, the TV series Through the Wormhole, the video games he plays and, of course, everyday life. His theories are not very similar to my own, which is in itself interesting and a wee bit dismaying; but I must say, after listening to his monologue I am convinced that I, too, may be reincarnated as a snow leopard. Wouldn't that be lovely?
I can't say that I'd like to walk from here to Pilot Butte on a regular basis. It's not very scenic. I do love exploring other parts of town, though; I love looking through the in-between spaces. My sister calls that walking off the off-the-beaten-path.
Next weekend maybe we'll walk three miles to the north. I'll have to look at a map; I'm not sure where that would take us!
Blake talked the whole way. The whole way. He isn't much of a talker generally so I considered it a rare treat. He explained his theory about life, the universe and everything: a fascinating synthesis of the world views espoused in the Guardians of Ga'Hoole books, the Septimus Heap books, the TV series Through the Wormhole, the video games he plays and, of course, everyday life. His theories are not very similar to my own, which is in itself interesting and a wee bit dismaying; but I must say, after listening to his monologue I am convinced that I, too, may be reincarnated as a snow leopard. Wouldn't that be lovely?
I can't say that I'd like to walk from here to Pilot Butte on a regular basis. It's not very scenic. I do love exploring other parts of town, though; I love looking through the in-between spaces. My sister calls that walking off the off-the-beaten-path.
Next weekend maybe we'll walk three miles to the north. I'll have to look at a map; I'm not sure where that would take us!
Sunday, November 04, 2012
My daughter made this for me
The book fits in the envelope, which (as you can see) is about one staple's width by two.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Sign the US government has a sense of humor
Living in rural Oregon, quite far both spatially and culturally from Washington, D.C., we tend to eye the federal government warily.
Which is why I was endlessly amused by this sign at the federally-managed Lava Lands Visitors Center.
Do you think the building is called the Animal Inn, or were they referring to that hollow log?
Which is why I was endlessly amused by this sign at the federally-managed Lava Lands Visitors Center.
Do you think the building is called the Animal Inn, or were they referring to that hollow log?
Monday, October 01, 2012
Provide supporting details
Per my son.
What did it sound like?
Whooooooooosh!
What did it feel like?
Cold. The air was cold, but I wasn't cold.
It felt like flying. I didn't feel like a bird. In a hang-glider you might feel like a bird, but not in a paraglider. In a paraglider you're sitting down.
Were you scared?
No.
Not at all?
No.
What did it sound like?
Whooooooooosh!
What did it feel like?
Cold. The air was cold, but I wasn't cold.
It felt like flying. I didn't feel like a bird. In a hang-glider you might feel like a bird, but not in a paraglider. In a paraglider you're sitting down.
Were you scared?
No.
Not at all?
No.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Written by a kid
I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it.
The children and I have watched nearly every one of these videos. La Munkya is my favorite. Blake likes Fire City, below. Sasha likes them all.
Naturally both my kids want to sit in that yellow chair and tell Will & Josh a story; so last night, in lieu of a giant chair and gentlemen, I asked them to tell a story to my iPhone and me.
Sasha told a rambling tale of a wolf (named Dragon) and a fox (named Komodo) who were brothers, both children of dragons. They loved each other deeply but their parents warned them that when they left home, they'd need to take care, because other people would find their friendship uncomfortable. And then all these other animals appeared, like a panda and a snake, telling Komodo about something that was going on, don't you know about it? You really don't know? Come on, Komodo; and Komodo followed them inside a tree; and there in the tree was a real-life version of the zoo games she plays all the time. You could push buttons to change the patterns on the animals in their cages.
Listening to that story was like dreaming: sensible and nonsensical both.
My son appeared to think that zaniness was the appealing element in the Written By a Kid stories, so he told about the Amazingly Amazing Boy With an Amazing Mustache That Gives Superpowers. His name was Joe. He had 5451.3 brothers, each of whose name started with "J." The mustache's name was Caterpillar and it would come off and Joe would feed it leaves. Caterpillar the mustache gave Joe the ability to move objects with his mind. And one day, when a black hole neared the earth, Joe saved the world by – Well, I won't give away the ending.
Listening to their stories made me a little itchy, if you know what I mean; it was late, and they couldn't put on pajamas or do anything but pace while they talked, and the stories kept taking side-roads so that I thought they'd never find the end. Their faces, though, kept me paying attention: they had that day-dreamy, introspective look people get when they're using their imaginations, and they cracked themselves up & were so eager for me to laugh at the right parts, too... We often praise and encourage them in physical things, like skiing or hiking big terrain, but this was the first time I praised & encouraged storytelling. They felt, I think, that their storytelling was legitimized.
I tell you what. I've been thinking about this all morning. Every child ought to have an adult listen to his stories with respect, interest and a willingness to be amused.
Very nice work, Geek & Sundry.
P.S. I want your jobs.
The children and I have watched nearly every one of these videos. La Munkya is my favorite. Blake likes Fire City, below. Sasha likes them all.
Naturally both my kids want to sit in that yellow chair and tell Will & Josh a story; so last night, in lieu of a giant chair and gentlemen, I asked them to tell a story to my iPhone and me.
Sasha told a rambling tale of a wolf (named Dragon) and a fox (named Komodo) who were brothers, both children of dragons. They loved each other deeply but their parents warned them that when they left home, they'd need to take care, because other people would find their friendship uncomfortable. And then all these other animals appeared, like a panda and a snake, telling Komodo about something that was going on, don't you know about it? You really don't know? Come on, Komodo; and Komodo followed them inside a tree; and there in the tree was a real-life version of the zoo games she plays all the time. You could push buttons to change the patterns on the animals in their cages.
Listening to that story was like dreaming: sensible and nonsensical both.
My son appeared to think that zaniness was the appealing element in the Written By a Kid stories, so he told about the Amazingly Amazing Boy With an Amazing Mustache That Gives Superpowers. His name was Joe. He had 5451.3 brothers, each of whose name started with "J." The mustache's name was Caterpillar and it would come off and Joe would feed it leaves. Caterpillar the mustache gave Joe the ability to move objects with his mind. And one day, when a black hole neared the earth, Joe saved the world by – Well, I won't give away the ending.
Listening to their stories made me a little itchy, if you know what I mean; it was late, and they couldn't put on pajamas or do anything but pace while they talked, and the stories kept taking side-roads so that I thought they'd never find the end. Their faces, though, kept me paying attention: they had that day-dreamy, introspective look people get when they're using their imaginations, and they cracked themselves up & were so eager for me to laugh at the right parts, too... We often praise and encourage them in physical things, like skiing or hiking big terrain, but this was the first time I praised & encouraged storytelling. They felt, I think, that their storytelling was legitimized.
I tell you what. I've been thinking about this all morning. Every child ought to have an adult listen to his stories with respect, interest and a willingness to be amused.
Very nice work, Geek & Sundry.
P.S. I want your jobs.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Why? What do you do on the weekend?
Updated 9/17: Look what NPR just printed!
For years my husband and I have been inviting my parents to accompany us to the Cowboy Dinner Tree; but, what with one thing and another, we have never been able to go after all, so that finally my dad pronounced the Cowboy Dinner Tree mythical.
It's not mythical. It's a real restaurant near Silver Lake. From Bend you drive southeast, toward Nevada, for about an hour and a half. The land grows less and less populated the further you drive and begins to look like Nevada: all dirt and sagebrush and sky. The restaurant is remote enough that it's off the grid, and they serve only the kind of food a hungry cowboy might want: a baked potato with a whole roasted chicken, or a baked potato with a 26oz steak. And dessert.
Anyway: at long last we found a weekend that works for everyone, and I made reservations. Since it's such a long drive we figured we'd make a day of it; we'll stop to hike around Fort Rock. My mother and I have been wanting to go there for ages. It's a fascinating feature to encounter in the desert. It's a volcano which erupted out of a lake during the last Ice Age; it was heavily eroded by waves on one side, so that now you can just walk right into what, they say, looks exactly like what it is: a dry lakebed. Ten thousand years ago people lived (or camped) in a cave there. Ten thousand years ago. Archaeologists found sagebrush sandals in it, and baskets.
Of course, life proceeding the way it does, my sister had the sudden chance to stop by Portland after giving a talk in California the exact weekend we had reservations, and we had to choose: drive to Portland to see Julie, or keep our date with Fort Rock & the Cowboy Dinner Tree? I choose the Dinner Tree. (Well, in point of fact I chose not to disappoint my father, who as I said is convinced that place is mythical. If we don't go next weekend, we'd have to put it off until June 2013!)
My sister took the news pretty well: she laughed and laughed. Reservations at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere! An extinct volcano! Sagebrush sandals! Jennifer, she said, where the heck do you live?
Well, but -- ? What do other people do on weekends?
For years my husband and I have been inviting my parents to accompany us to the Cowboy Dinner Tree; but, what with one thing and another, we have never been able to go after all, so that finally my dad pronounced the Cowboy Dinner Tree mythical.
It's not mythical. It's a real restaurant near Silver Lake. From Bend you drive southeast, toward Nevada, for about an hour and a half. The land grows less and less populated the further you drive and begins to look like Nevada: all dirt and sagebrush and sky. The restaurant is remote enough that it's off the grid, and they serve only the kind of food a hungry cowboy might want: a baked potato with a whole roasted chicken, or a baked potato with a 26oz steak. And dessert.
Anyway: at long last we found a weekend that works for everyone, and I made reservations. Since it's such a long drive we figured we'd make a day of it; we'll stop to hike around Fort Rock. My mother and I have been wanting to go there for ages. It's a fascinating feature to encounter in the desert. It's a volcano which erupted out of a lake during the last Ice Age; it was heavily eroded by waves on one side, so that now you can just walk right into what, they say, looks exactly like what it is: a dry lakebed. Ten thousand years ago people lived (or camped) in a cave there. Ten thousand years ago. Archaeologists found sagebrush sandals in it, and baskets.
Of course, life proceeding the way it does, my sister had the sudden chance to stop by Portland after giving a talk in California the exact weekend we had reservations, and we had to choose: drive to Portland to see Julie, or keep our date with Fort Rock & the Cowboy Dinner Tree? I choose the Dinner Tree. (Well, in point of fact I chose not to disappoint my father, who as I said is convinced that place is mythical. If we don't go next weekend, we'd have to put it off until June 2013!)
My sister took the news pretty well: she laughed and laughed. Reservations at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere! An extinct volcano! Sagebrush sandals! Jennifer, she said, where the heck do you live?
Well, but -- ? What do other people do on weekends?
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Aa
My husband's brothers and sisters descended on the Camp Sherman house over Labor Day, partly for one last party out there and partly to help my in-laws redistribute their stuff. I expected it to be difficult for me, emotionally, so I talked my dad into giving me an excuse to escape spending a few hours on Sunday walking up Black Crater.
Every year he and I hike something. Last year we tried to go up Black Crater but were blocked by snow; this year we made it to the top. (And got lapped by a man about my age who was running the thing. Dang. It's four miles up, four miles down.)
I think this view looks toward the Pole Creek Fire*, which started this Sunday (seven days after I hiked) and has burned 2000 acres so far. It's 0% contained.
Every year he and I hike something. Last year we tried to go up Black Crater but were blocked by snow; this year we made it to the top. (And got lapped by a man about my age who was running the thing. Dang. It's four miles up, four miles down.)
I think this view looks toward the Pole Creek Fire*, which started this Sunday (seven days after I hiked) and has burned 2000 acres so far. It's 0% contained.
*Updated: After looking at the map a bit longer, I think the fire is further south -- closer to South Sister -- or, to put it another way, cropped from the right side of this photo.
Saturday, September 08, 2012
Good night, little house. Good night mouse.
My husband's parents sold their house in Camp Sherman. I planned to write a wry, amusing post about it but I'm too sad to do so. I'll miss that place – not the house, which is just, you know, a house – but the meadow and the creek and the bridge over the creek and the mint that lines it, and the aspens and the ponderosas and the pussywillows, and the view of Black Butte from the backyard, and the great joyful peacefulness I always felt there.
Big thanks to my in-laws for sharing it with me these last 15 years.
Good-bye, little house.
*
Big thanks to my in-laws for sharing it with me these last 15 years.
Good-bye, little house.
*
Saturday, August 11, 2012
One of my husband's childhood friends won't move back to Bend because he says it's too crowded; and this summer, for the first time, I understood what he meant.
I just thought I'd record that moment here. My husband says either I'm finally becoming a local, or else Baldface Lodge ruined me.
*
View from the top of Tumalo Mountain, where in winter many people "backcountry" ski and snowboard. It's a four-mile hike, and yet we encountered a family with kids about the same age as my children plus two families with infants in backpacks.
That's Bend for you!
(I say "backcountry" because Tumalo Mtn's just across the way from Mt. Bachelor, maybe 20 miles from town.)
I just thought I'd record that moment here. My husband says either I'm finally becoming a local, or else Baldface Lodge ruined me.
*
View from the top of Tumalo Mountain, where in winter many people "backcountry" ski and snowboard. It's a four-mile hike, and yet we encountered a family with kids about the same age as my children plus two families with infants in backpacks.
That's Bend for you!
(I say "backcountry" because Tumalo Mtn's just across the way from Mt. Bachelor, maybe 20 miles from town.)
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
Photo & partially related anecdote
Hosmer Lake
I asked how long he'd been camped up there and immediately felt gauche. Teetotalers don't ask strangers where they buy their pot. But after a pause he told me anyway, deciding, I suppose, that I was all right; and then every time he walked past our camp spot, he stopped to talk.
I found him really interesting. He was very clearly living out if his RV, parked up there in the forest, but he was just as clearly living there by choice. His hair was stringy but his clothes looked like any other camper's clothes, though perhaps a little cleaner. The flatbed trailer hooked to his RV had solar panels on it, and cars, and two dune buggies and a land sail and a couple kayaks and a canoe – and probably more, but I didn't like to stare.
Meeting him reminded me of meeting other travelers in Eastern Europe who, like this gentleman, lived in a style radically different from anything I'd ever imagined. I asked him a lot of questions, just like I did in Eastern Europe. My husband told me later it was impertinent. Oregonians don't interrogate people during casual conversation, he said. But how could I not? I wanted to know what those solar panels powered. I wanted to know how the land sail worked, and where he sailed it, and at what time of year, and what he did with the cars, and all of that —
But what I really wanted to know, of course, was: What's it like? What's it like to live without a fixed address, traveling your own personal seasonal round?
I didn't ask him that; but I could imagine it.
I envied him a little.
Monday, August 06, 2012
Does it hatch from an egg? Then yes, she loves it
If Todd Lake is a lake of tadpoles, then Wickiup is a lake of dragonflies: hundreds and hundreds of dragonflies, underfoot at every step, perched like windsocks on every exposed reed.
I wanted a photo of the dragonflies perched like windsocks, which was both cool and really funny, but I feared for my non-waterproof iPhone; so here's this instead. We were calling her the Dragonfly Whisperer.
I wanted a photo of the dragonflies perched like windsocks, which was both cool and really funny, but I feared for my non-waterproof iPhone; so here's this instead. We were calling her the Dragonfly Whisperer.
Friday, July 27, 2012
Like, wow. You know?
For work I'm interviewing people across the company, and because the interviews are 1:1 I've been recording them. I just now replayed the first of them in order to transcribe it – and OMG, right?
Approximately every third word I say is either "like" or "you know." And my voice is higher-pitched than I though. Dudes: I sound like I'm twelve.
I never knew that.
I hope that by the time the 10th of these is transcribed, I'll be inured to the sound of my own voice.
HA!
Approximately every third word I say is either "like" or "you know." And my voice is higher-pitched than I though. Dudes: I sound like I'm twelve.
I never knew that.
I hope that by the time the 10th of these is transcribed, I'll be inured to the sound of my own voice.
HA!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Riffing on a theme
Swallowtail. These are the local butterfly everyone recognizes; we see them everywhere (picture below is from Shevlin Park) and they are bo-dacious.
Again: I had no idea so many different subspecies of butterfly existed. At first I thought this was the Oregon swallowtail; but it must be the two-tailed swallowtail. Unless it's the anise swallowtail...
Again: I had no idea so many different subspecies of butterfly existed. At first I thought this was the Oregon swallowtail; but it must be the two-tailed swallowtail. Unless it's the anise swallowtail...
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
... where my daughter and I found blue butterflies. She caught a few but let them all go.
I had no idea so many types of butterflies existed. I looked online for a long time before concluding this must be a Boiduval's blue. Pretty, isn't it?
I had no idea so many types of butterflies existed. I looked online for a long time before concluding this must be a Boiduval's blue. Pretty, isn't it?
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Green + yellow + blue
My son and his best friend fill our house (and yard) with a truly incredible degree of sound and energy, so this afternoon we took them out to the desert where they could be as wild as they liked.
Near Pine Mountain.
Near Pine Mountain.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
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