Jaci Dawn

The area where I work is a busy business park with one main road dividing it and several side roads intersecting. There are crosswalks on all of the corners and stop signs on all of the side streets. Traffic is posted 35 MPH.

The problem is the crosswalks. In Oregon, a motorized vehicle is required to stop if a pedestrian steps off the curb into a crosswalk. Of course, that doesn’t mean peds are to be stupid, but drivers are supposed to be on high alert and they are required (I used that word again) to stop.

But they don’t. Tigard police occasionally do pedestrian traps in the area and they always nail drivers. But it doesn’t seem to curb the problem.

As a driver, I can understand that sometimes you actually miss seeing a ped or you misunderstand that they are going to step off the curb and cross (usually that happens because the ped doesn’t make eye contact). But as a driver with 30 years’ experience of driving in Oregon, I can say that I try to always stop for peds. I put myself in the peds’ position.

Actually, much of the time I am the ped. Buddy is afraid to cross the busy road where we work and will not do so when she walks alone. I am less afraid: I make direct eye contact with the drivers and I let them know in my body language that I know what the law is and I expect them to stop. Those that don’t stop, get yelled at. I’m what you call an aggressive pedestrian (and I stay within the law – I’m not out to prove a point by becoming a road bump!).

I’ve observed some pretty close calls since Buddy and I started walking together. I saw a car skirt around a pregnant woman & toddler when the woman was nearly half-way across the street, coming close enough to the woman to cause her eyes to pop open in fear. I saw another driver gun it and cut right behind Buddy so close that her coat moved with the air generated by the car. There are some motorized idiots out there.

And I’ve never had my camera ready.

Until today.

This woman approaches crossing the street like I do. She’s off the curb and in the crosswalk, but cautious and looking both ways. She intends to make eye contact. Traffic was coming from both directions. I whipped out my camera and started taking pictures.

There are no obstructions to the view on the road. This driver could see the ped as soon as she stepped off the curb and he was 500 feet away (moving at 35 mph). Didn’t even brake. She isn’t looking at him because she’s already figured he wasn’t going to stop and she’s looking at the traffic from the other direction to see if they will stop for her.

That’s Buddy’s hand as she throws it up in disgust at the driver who just missed the ped. See that white van entering the intersection? He wasn’t going to stop, either, but when Buddy’s hand went down and he saw my camera in place, he stopped in the middle of the intersection to let the pedestrian cross.

When the woman in blue crossed the street (in front of the now-stopped van) she said, “Thank you” for taking the pics. I just said I’d been waiting a long time to catch one of those shots.

Unfortunately, the sun glare obliterated the license plate number of the silver SUV. Still: GOTCHA.

Buddy wants me to email the pics to her so she can send them to Tigard police and request another pedestrian/car sting in the area.

bwahahahahaha! I’m definitely carrying my camera with me all the time!

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I’ve been carrying my camera with me every where I go. No, I am not committing to taking a photo a day, but somehow having photos to talk about helps me get past writer’s block. I have photos, therefore I will blog.

What decided me were the mushrooms. I think it was a Monday. We went on our walk as usual (my Bud & I) and there were mushrooms popping up everywhere in the grass around the ponds and buildings of the business park where we work. And I had no camera!

I decided to take it to work on Tuesday. And guess what? The landscapers came before 8AM and mowed down all the mushrooms! Talk about a lost opportunity. I knew then that I should just have the camera with me, just in case I saw something worth taking a photo of or blogging about.

A week has passed, we’ve had some warm rains, and the mushrooms popped back up. This time I had my camera. Good thing, too, because this morning the landscapers mowed everything down again.

Darn landscapers.

Pretty cool ‘shrooms! I should have located some faeries to put in there, but I think this time I will let the ‘shrooms speak for themselves.

It isn’t just the size of the mushrooms, but the textures. These are some deliciously textured mushrooms!

I just want to say “wow!”

Toadstools!

They’re maybe a few hours past good (if they were edible). All the colors and textures suck me in…

I think these are a fresher version of what is pictured above and they look similar to “Shaggy Mane”.  They aren’t “Shaggy Manes” at all (they’re too smooth) but they do seem to turn “inky” rather quickly, hence my observation.

I automatically assume any mushroom growing in a public place like a lawn is either poisonous or hallucinogenic (I did not photograph the psilocybin that was rampant in the lawn after the landscapers mowed last week). There is a way to find out if a ‘shroom is edible or poisonous, but it takes time and a good reference book (or website).

Edible Wild Mushrooms is a great website (which I just found). I love how the warnings pop up (two of them) and the last word is “when in doubt, throw the mushroom out!” And wash your hands.

Even edible mushrooms can make you ill. I once picked a passle of Shaggy Manes and fried them up for supper. Some of them must have been just past “edible” because i got a little sick. Well, a lot sick, but not death-bed sick. I probably will never eat a Shaggy Mane again, and they are pretty yummy. *IF* you pick them and fry them when they are very, very VERY fresh.

I remember the first time I went ‘shrooming with my husband’s family. My own family never did anything like that (we weren’t big mushroom eaters). I called my folks to tell them about hunting for wild morels and I got a lecture on being Very Careful.

They really needn’t have worried: while the rest of the family just picks morels because they know what they are, my husband is incredibly anal (can I say that here?) about identifying things in nature. It’s not a “sea gull”, it’s a specific sort of gull: California, whatever. You do not get it wrong. (It’s a family joke: do not mis-label a bird around Donald. He WILL correct you.)

That carries over into mushrooming: find something suspicious? He has to take the time to key it out and identify it and label it. We never try something we are not absolutely certain of.

If he read my blog, he’d tell me exactly what mushrooms I took photos of and he’d have ten cows because I labeled one photo “toadstools”. True story. There are no “toadstools” – they have scientific names.

Just like there are no sea gulls. They have a specific name.

(It’s still a damn sea gull when it poops on my windshield in the parking lot!)

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I bring this up because I saw a video on Facebook that piqued my interest. I did a little research tonight and discovered this has actually been out for a number of years.

I dare you to type “ufo training for firemen” into Google. Makes for some mighty interesting reading!

Sleep well tonight!

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Tonight is the beginning of Autumn. It is also the first day of Sukkot, the Jewish Feast of Tabernacles.

I’m very fuzzy on Jewish celebrations. I won’t attempt to explain this one to you except it has a lot to do with harvests and feasting. And to recommend one of my very favorite foreign films ever: Ushpizin. It’s a riot.

I’m depressed about leaving summer behind (summer? what summer?) with green tomatoes on the vine and not nearly enough days of sun (I wore my sweater and SOCKS nearly the entire summer), but after reading about Sukkot a little, I realize that maybe I should be rejoicing.

I won’t tell you any more – you can research it or not, but whatever you do – rent Ushpizin and give it a watch. Maybe it’s just me, but I found it to be one of the funniest movies ever. Heartwarming funny.

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It was a lovely foggy morning. I stepped out onto the back stoop. Everywhere, the spider webs were heavy laden with dew and stood out against the grass.

One thing I have always loved about September and October has Been the spiders: they are fat and ready to hibernate or lay eggs to over-winter and their webs are especially numerous, strong and beautiful. When we lived in the woods, the orb-weavers stood out but here in town, it’s the grass spiders that stand out.

I did get this very nice shot of a lovely orb weaver today. She wouldn’t cooperate from the top-side, so my photo is from underneath but I *think* she is an Araneus diadematus. She’s striking from beneath as well as from above.

All that to introduce the mess of webs in my yard!

g’nite!

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I have owned a total of five dogs since I left home at age 17. Only one of two of those dogs were trained to walk on a leash, which is really sad. My first dog was a Dalmatian I called Mandy and she went everywhere with me on a leash. I was 22 and loved walking, But then I met Don and we fell in love and Mandy hated Don. So I had to give her away. I still miss Mandy.

I got Don a dog the first year we were married: a Springer/Brittany/Pointer mix we named Rosie. Rosie refused to learn how to walk on a leash, but she was a great dog in the woods, always running between Don & I, checking up on us. Later, when we had children, she stayed close to the babies. Unfortunately, Rosie was a “runner” and if she could escape, she was gone. Eventually, that bad habit (and several tons of steel) caught up to her and killed her.

Then we got Sadie, our first purebred dog: an English Pointer show dog. I will spare you my thoughts on Sadie’s intelligence because Sadie had no intelligence. She was a true “Latte dog.” And despite the few efforts on my part, Sadie also refused to walk well on a leash. She was Don’s dog and he promised to train her, but that never happened. She was good in the woods, though, and stayed close to people without a tether. Cancer took Sadie from us and I have to admit I cried a lot when we let her go.

Then Murphy. And Murphy is like Rosie on steroids. Don promised to train him, too – and he has: as a bird dog and a woodland dog. Murphy wears a shock collar in the woods, but he knows not to stray too far and he comes when Don calls. When Don Calls – I can’t stress that enough because Murphy basically ignores me. The only work I’ve done with Murphy has been to establish dominance – and he knows to not try to go out doors ahead of me, argue with me in the kitchen or jump on me. Most of the time. Having his little balls cut off help the dominance thing and he’s turned out to be pretty mellow. But he can’t walk on a leash. That’s 85# of male dog dominance UN-leashed.

Now I have my own dog again. Harvey still needs a lot of work, but the one thing I love about him is he is learning to walk on a leash! Can’t take him out in the woods because he runs off, but I can walk around town with him on a leash. He’s like a photo negative of Rosie, Sadie & Murphy: has to be tied up in the woods or on a leash while hiking, but he’s great as an in-town dog.

I do have to yank him back a few times when we first start out, but he quickly settles down. And he’s terrible about walking past a cat: I have to drag him to keep him from pointing and then attacking. But he’s learning.

Today I thought I’d try something new: I put him in the dog carrier & we drove over to the Oregon City Promenade. A few circles before we set out, but he started to settle down quickly. Next time, I will take my camera.

After the promenade, I went to Home Depot. I was very nervous about this part. Would I instantly regret it? Would he sit still when I checked out?

To my relief, Harvey was a gentleman in the store. Granted, he was a little overwhelmed by the noises, lights and people. He passed a little girl within inches and didn’t turn to look at her. She looked a little nervous (wise child!) but Harvey was well-behaved. Someone approached and asked to pet him and Harvey was sweet about that, too. Mostly, he stayed fairly close to me and didn’t pull on the leash at all. The only time I thought we might have a problem was when we turned a corner and there was a black lab with his owner – but I turned Harvey quickly and we went another way.

I am of the opinion and training that a dog on a leash should be on a short leash. The dog is not supposed to pull out ahead of you, but is supposed to walk by your left hip, at the “heel”. I refuse to purchase one of those retractable leashes because it teaches dogs bad manners on leashes – they can roam out as far as they want. I see very few people train their dogs this way – the dogs roam ahead, wander off to the side, and pull.

I’ve never been impressed with Don’s dog’s lack of leash training. It’s infuriating and takes all of the pleasure of walking a dog away. So I have been more than excited to see how Harvey behaves under the leash and at the “heel”. He’s not a perfect gentleman, but he’s learning.

And I foresee further trips to Home Depot in our future, just for the pleasure of being able to go somewhere with a well-behaved dog in public.

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Some guy flipped me off today. It was really stupid. Of him, not me. I was where I was supposed to be, doing what I was supposed to be doing. The problem was that he wanted to turn left across traffic that had the right of way and instead of waiting for a proper opening, he just turned. And I was in front of him, blocking his way. So he flipped me off.It wasn’t like I could really move any direction but forward given the light was green – for me, not him.

I kept going. So did the two cars behind me. I don’t think the guy who was doing the left turn thing was getting much sympathy – or that his bullying tactic was working for him.

Normally, I don’t tempt fate. Someone wants to be an idiot, I give him plenty of room. But turning across lanes of traffic when it’s obvious that there are cars there really crosses the line. And then flipping the oncoming cars off? Moron.

Reminds me of the time when I was driving down a street in Oregon City that has no stop signs. All the cross streets have stop signs. The woman on the cross street decided to go as I came into the intersection. She had to slam on her brakes because guess what? *I* was there. And she flipped me off.

Hello? *I* did not have the stop sign – she did. And she knew it because she stopped for it and watched the traffic in front of me go by. But apparently, I was at fault for being on the road when she wanted to go.

Go figure.

I’ve made some stupid moves while driving but I never flipped the other driver off when it was clearly MY fault for being inattentive or stupid or whatever excuse I chose to use. I wanted to crawl under the dashboard and turn very red… OOOPS. Near fatal faux pas! Thank you God for letting me live to NEVER do THAT again!

So here is a list of my favorite pet peeves while driving (in no particular order):

People who decide to merge left from the right-hand off ramp where I-205 merges into I-5 Northbound (you know who you are: get into the left-hand merge lane and merge proper, OK? You aren’t supposed to merge from the off-ramp lane that goes to Sherwood).

People who speed up when they see merging traffic.

Merging traffic that expects the people on the freeway to stop or slow down for them.

Changing lanes without using a turn signal.

Stopping and letting cross traffic turn left in front of you when there is oncoming traffic. Who died and made you the crossing guard? And where you gonna go when the guy you just waved through is T-boned?

Driving 5 miles under the speed limit on the freeway. Take a back road if you can’t find the gas pedal. Please.

Leaving a gap of a quarter mile or more between yourself and the car in front of you when traffic is moving slowly. It’s the 2-second rule. If you can’t figure out the 2-second rule, do a car length for every ten miles per hour. It doesn’t add up to a quarter mile at 40 MPH. It’s less than 40 feet.

Tail-gating at any speed but especially in 1) school zones and 2) construction zones. The sign just said traffic fines double. I’m NOT going to pay a double fine just because you’re on my bumper, trying to go faster than the posted speed limit. ESPECIALLY in a school zone.

Driving five miles under the speed limit in the fast lane. Or driving exactly the speed limit in the fast lane. Come on, even the police don’t drive exactly the speed limit in the fast lane. Get over.

Flashing your turn signal to try to get someone driving slower than you to move out of the fast lane, even though 1) they are driving over the speed limit, too, and 2) there’s traffic in the slower lanes and they can’t move over.

Truck drivers going 45 mph who decide to pass other truck drivers going over mountain passes and who just pull over into the fast lane in front of cars going 70. Hello? Anyone look in their rearview/sideview mirrors lately?

Tailgaters in the rain.

Tailgaters in the snow.

People who stop when there is NOT a stop sign. This happens all the time turning off of 99E onto 14th Street in Oregon City. The cross street has a stop sign, but 14th Street traffic has no stop sign. But people stop there all the time and wave traffic.

Anyone who waves traffic across. it’s one thing to stop for yield traffic or merge traffic when it’s slow, but to wave someone across lanes of traffic? And then they get T-boned and you go your merry way?

That’s it for now. I’m sure I can think of more irritating scenarios. And I bet you can add some, too.

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We had a beautiful and very brief sunset tonight.

I snapped two hurried photos. I turned around and the sunset was gone that quickly: all too brief, all too beautiful, all too fragile.

Like life.

Childhood.

Motherhood years.

You blink and it’s in the past.

But it was beautiful while it passed by.

I like how those sentences build on each other.

Good Night – hope you had a beautiful sunset today, too.

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I was on my way home tonight from work when I fell in behind a pickup truck pulling a walled trailer. It was a brown trailer with six-foot walls and open on top, a gate in the back that was latched and ratcheted shut, full size wheels & tires. Black plastic bags full of something were stacked in the bed of the trailer and a worn blue tarp was tied loosely over the top of the black plastic. It flapped and fluttered in the current of air caused by driving.

It was the objects in the black plastic that caught my eye: they were very humanoid: head and torso, stacked on top of each other right up to the top of the trailer walls. I got the Heebie Jeebies just following the rig and was quite relieved when I passed it and left it in my dust (so to speak). All I could think of was the Pea Pod People.

I came home and all was well. Took the dog out to play and came back in, started doing dishes.

And I couldhear Katie Couric’s voice in the background: “…Invasion of the Body Snatchers…”

YIKES! First the truck and trailer and now it’s on the news?! Talk about Heebie-Jeebies!

Sadly, the news was really about Kevin McCarthy who starred in the 1956 version of Invasion. He died today. He was 96.

At least, that’s what they’re telling us. I’m not so sure after my commute and the eerir timing of the news break. I feel likerunning out into the street and yelling:

“Can’t you see, everyone?! They’re here already! You’re next!”

‘Cause I’m telling you: that trailer had bodies in black plastic wrapped up tight…

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