Jaci Dawn

I’m not sure how I am going to wrap this post up so bear with me.

I uploaded several photos from my camera and they are all about the end of this beautiful autumn weather we have been having. But what has been on my heart to blog about is a different kind of ending.

I attended a “leadership training” seminar on Friday. Actually, it was a mandatory training meeting but the venue was the beautiful Waverly Country Club in Sellwood, Oregon, so no one was complaining. And it turned out to be a great training session by Allison Clarke Consulting.

The subject of her training was how do you want your life to look after you are gone? What do you want people to say about you? Were you passionate in what you did? Did you touch a lot of lives for the better? Did you live your dream(s) to the fullest?

There was a lot of food for thought and I have my little notes sitting on my desk where they are saying: You need a ‘bucket list’, Jaci.

I don’t want to climb the highest mountain or bungee jump or do something daredevil. That isn’t me. I’ve always been somewhat cautious and I expect to go on being somewhat cautious because that suits me just fine. But there are things I want to do.

Learn to play the piano, for instance.

Take part in one of those early morning photo shoots of a wild horse round-up. Or just plain hike in to some place where the wild horses are and get my own photos, unstaged.

Hike all the way to the top of Pike Creek Canyon, not peter out at the two mile mark like I do every single time.

Publish a book. Not any book, but a novel. Sci-fi fantasy or something… Well, I have two that I am working on & I hope to someday publish one of them. At least one of them.

The training session was interesting in a lot of different ways. I had to share some of my goals with a partner who is a real estate broker and is also a manager of our entire central Oregon division. He had to share his goals with me in turn. And guess what? Our first goal was the very same goal: to be the best parent/grandparent we could be. To make the phone calls, to make the trips to see the grands, to host the big Holiday dinner, to keep the family connected through the generations. Instead of feeling intimidated by his lofty goals, I found myself inspired to achieve my own: because being a connected grandparent is a wonderful, lofty goal.

I have friends who are connected to their community and live a life of giving. They run in races, organize charity events, and their life is about making a difference.

I haven’t done anything for my immediate community since I pulled my kids out of public school and quit the PTA. I was president of the PTA when they closed our little school. But when they closed the school, I lost all sense of community. I’ve floundered a little.

I have issues I feel passionate about but beyond donating items or money, I have done nothing to improve the world I live in. I feel bad about that – another item to add to my bucket list: Do something for the greater good of my community, even if it is as small as volunteering at our local library’s used book store. I do feel passionate about our local library.

Of course I want to make an impact on the art community with my weird faerie scupltures. Another item for my list: get serious about spending time in the studio and creating.

I have some travel goals. I’d like to go to Ireland and Scotland on a geneaological trek. I want to see New Zealand, especially the diversity of animal life there and the steep mountains. I want to see the Grand Canyon. And there’s so many rabbit trails right here in Oregon/Nevada/Idaho that I still haven’t wandered down.

Some of the goals I had when I was younger have been set aside but I think I should put them back on my bucket list even if they seem unattainable now: ride in a 50-mile endurance race on my own horse. I used to think that Whisper would be that horse, but time – and Whisper – slipped through my fingers.

The speaker who spoke on Friday also talked about engaging people: keeping friendships alive and gaining new ones, making people smile, and touching individual lives. So many people walk down the street and never make eye contact with a stranger or speak to anyone in a store. We rely on email and three-second status updates on social network. We never call people on the phone.

Well, I’m not going to change the phone habit. I hate phones. It kills me to pick up a receiver and talk for any length of time. I can’t think of anything to say. And I am not so certain that writing letters is not communicating well: in the ages past, letters were all there were. But I could write more letters more often and send little cards out.

And I could go out for coffee with my girlfriends once in awhile.

There’s so much to consider when you think about how you want to be remembered. If I want to be remembered well, I need to make a shift in how I approach life and quit holing up inside myself.

I’m not sure how it will all pan out, but I’m going to make an effort to write more, remember birthdays earlier, and call my girlfriends to go out for coffee once in awhile. Picking up the phone to achieve that last one may kill me and you’ll be reminiscing about it at my funeral…

Seriously, though. Life is pretty short. We need to embrace it. The winter winds will be here soon enough and will strip all the leaves from the trees.

Carpe Diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the future.

WOW is all I can say. November has started out beautifully. The rain has been almost nil and the sun has come out to play every single day. Yesterday and today were simply gorgeous (and tomorrow promises to be). Today edged up into the low 70’s (Fahrenheit) setting new records for the warmest November days ever recorded in the Portland metro area.

The trees are just now edging past their full autumn glory and the sidewalks are covered with fallen leaves.

Too soon we will enter the long grey days of winter, but for now the world is full of light and color.

Normally, the landscapers would be out with leaf-blowers, trying to make the business park “presentable” but because of the strong east winds today, they didn’t come out to play. Which is fine by me because I hate leaf-blowers. Categorically hate them: the noise pollution and the artificial “neatness” that is left behind. My theory is that one should let the all the leaves fall from the trees before raking them up (but I suppose cities & storm drains & business park owners do not hold with the same theory).

Since I beat the leaf-blowers (for once), I thought I’d lighten up and show you the beauty of Oregon on a sunlit autumn day. (Some photos were taken with my phone, but the blurry edges seem to work for them.)

ttfn –

Yesterday I posted all the fun photos from the weekend but the weekend was not all fun and games. We had some serious drama going on.

My youngest has been living on her own (with her boyfriend) for a year and a half now. That relationship came to a screeching halt over the past few days. I have only heard one side of the story and it is all I am ever likely to hear: the ex-boyfriend is permanently estranged. What happened, happened. My girl acted in anger and the consequences run deep.

She was not unjustified and in the same place, I would have made the same call. But the decision put her in harm’s way and she can no longer live in the same apartment – or even allow the ex-boyfriend to know where she is living.

I put all of this to my son-in-law on Friday when he came to pick up the boys. He agreed to leave his Saturday open to help the girl move, and I am so thankful he was there.

The ex-boyfriend did show up. Sam was able to calmly disarm the situation (mind you, he picked up a good sized board and struck a threatening pose and he is over 6′ tall). Sam also made certain Chrystal’s name was removed from the apartment lease so she would not be liable for any damages. In short, he was a knight in shining armor and I feel especially blessed to have him as a member of this family.

Thank you, Sam.

Chrystal is in a safe place now and can start life out on her own – truly on her own, this time.

There was drama in yet another part of my life, too, but of a very different kind. My daughter-in-law is pregnant with her second child. And this child wants to come early. Too early by two weeks.

Kaci has been stuck in a hospital taking anti-labor drugs since late last week. They’ve taken her off of the stop-labor IVs, but she’s on muscle relaxers and strict bed rest for the next two weeks. At least that is what I have gleaned from the couple phone calls and many FaceBook status posts.

Two weeks in a hospital waiting for a baby to come. UGH. I can’t imagine. I’d go stark raving mad with boredom, not to mention not being warm enough or being able to sleep or…

Tonight I put together a little Care package of books from Dover Publication for her and sent it off. Too bad I didn’t know sooner that she was going to be stuck there on her birthday or I could have ordered the books in time for her birthday.

Did I mention she’s stuck in the hospital for her birthday? She missed Hallowe’en with her son, Justin. She’s spending her birthday – well, you get the picture. She’s not a happy camper.

As I understand it, if labor progresses despite all the measures, they will no longer attempt to stop it. But they are actively trying to keep her from going back into labor until the baby is at least 36 weeks along.

Talk about depressing.

So if you happen to think of it, send some prayers up for my girls. I’m thinking they need it right now.

Friday night, two little boys came over to Poppa’s house to play while their parents & little brother went to a party. Poppa’s house has big dogs and Hallowe’en decorations (spiders, bats, rats, an orc from Lord of the Rings, and a pair of blow-up Space Aliens known affectionately as Jake & Elwood). Grandma is not so much into ghosts & witches.

Javan loved Elwood.

I think Zephan had some sort of Blues’ Brothers’ dance move going on here. How would he know about the Aliens’ namesakes, I wonder?

The orc was the coolest Goodwill find EVER. I can’t believe someone got rid of it. A couple of AA batteries and the thing has this awesome roar. It’s poseable, too. (Spell check doesn’t like that word, but I looked it up: you can spell it poseable or posable. Spell check doesn’t like either one!)

The boys weren’t so sure they trusted the orc, but it didn’t scare them.

We watched The Great Pumpkin, too.

Saturday, I had a Hallowe’en party to go to. Actually, WE  had a party to go to, but Donald got sick and couldn’t go. Too bad because I spent money on his costume. He was supposed to be Poseidon (the party’s theme was Greek, Roman & Egyptian Empires) and I was to be his lover, Medusa. According to myth, that’s how Medusa got into trouble with the goddess Athena: there was a tryst in Athena’s temple that the senior goddess was none too impressed with so she turned the Gorgon’s hair into snakes. Perseus later beheaded Medusa for Athena (and Medusa’s blood gave birth to Pegasus).

I spent hours gluing snakes onto a wig which I then spray painted green.

I was a big hit with the under-12 crowd at the party. And I won a prize for this get-up. I’m still sorry Poseidon didn’t get to go with me.

There was a Coliseum for Gadiator games.

And there were Gladiators of all nationalities: Gauls, Romans, Greeks, and even Vikings.

It was a pretty fun evening, complete with labyrinths, a Rosetta Stone and mysteries to solve. (Thank you, Mary!)

The Gateway is Dead. I think I had it for 12 years? I’m really not certain how long it’s been around – a decade at least and no less. It’s been a decent computer and stored a lot of memories.

Memories that I backed up diligently after our brush with the Blue Screen of Death two years ago. The nice Geeks at PC Pieces in Oregon City revived the Gateway and retrieved all my old data – and didn’t charge me an arm or a leg, but a little bit of petty cash. I am forever grateful.

When I got the Gateway back, I discovered that I did not save all my “keys” to Microsoft Works and I lost my photo-editing programs. I downloaded a couple free photo shop programs (I’m in the market again) and I paid for Microsoft Office. And this time I kept my product key in case the Gateway died again.

I’m thankful I did because the motor in the Gateway gave up the ghost a little over a week ago. I’ve been using my husband’s Compaq with Vista Premium on it. I hate Vista. And the Compaq doesn’t have my files or photoshop or MS Office. My music languished on my back-up drive.

Thus began a search for a new computer. Well, a tower, really: my monitor is perfectly fine. I went to all the usual places: the local Fry’s ads, the Dell discount emails (we have a Dell discount through my employer), and going to Best Buy. I don’t like Best Buy (although I cannot give you a definitive reason why. Maybe it is the countless salespeople standing around like vultures or maybe it’s the prices… Best Buy is definitely NOT the best buy around). I like Fry’s, but I hate going in there: it’s dim, it’s noisy, it’s crowded, the aisles are so packed with items, and it’s media over-load. It’s an HSP’s worst nightmare.

The Dell discounts weren’t enough to warrant purchasing a Dell – besides I’d have to do it online and I’m a very visual person. I like to actually see what I am buying.

Thursday of this week I had a brilliant notion: Office Depot! it’s kitty-corner to where I work  and they sell computers. So I went over on my lunch hour. I found three towers in my price range. I looked at laptops, too, but I’m not fully convinced I need the Internet to be that portable. I’d just waste time on Facebook. Sure, I could say I was getting a laptop to work on my writing during my lunch, but I know darn well I’d waste the time. Besides, I have this perfectly fine monitor.

The salesman was nice enough. He immediately dismissed my interest in a slimline by HP and directed me instead to a Compaq with 2GB memory or a Lenovo with 4GB memory and a 500GB hard drive. He explained that the HP with 3GB memory & a 640GB hard drive was 1) the display model & had been turned on and 2)the slim lines are tiny, so the components are tiny. But he thought I’d like the Lenovo which was a huge monster with all kinds of ports & card readers (including a PS2 port). I decided to sleep on it.

Today I went back in. I bypassed the original salesman and went back to the computers. I thought I had decided but there I was – undecided again. This time a new salesman approached and when I explained my situation (price and the 3 computers in my range), he made a surprising gaffe. He didn’t hesitate.

He blurted out, “Well, if I was buying a tower in that price range, I’d absolutely buy that one…” and he pointed to the HP. He wasn’t intimidated by the size (or lack thereof) of the components. He admitted to not liking Compaq. I’d already eliminated the Lenovo because of its size – I have limited space in my studio with the slanted ceiling. I was already leaning heavily toward the HP.

After declining all the added-on expenses they try to sell you (extended warranty, Office Depot tech support, McAffee antivirus), I finally agreed to pay $30 to have recovery disks made. I could probably make my own, but it takes hours and if they were willing to do it… Well, I’m more than happy to let them do it.

I walked out $400 poorer but much happier.

For the next few days I will be resetting all my favorites, downloading all my old programs, getting all my old data transferred… It’s a daunting process and time consuming! But at least I had it all backed up.

And how do I like my new tower?

Well after I finally figured out that the ON button is on top of the tower (no schematics came with the computer), I am so far impressed. It’s fast. Windows 7 is a step above Vista. And I love the new keyboard.

I think we will form a very good friendship over the years.

Now – I need to find a recycler for the old Gateway (after I erase my hard drive). My old keyboard will go to work with me… I hate the keyboard they gave me at work.

I’m happy tonight.

P.S. – I paid less than the advertised price because it was “used”. 🙂

I am going nuts. It isn’t not having a computer necessarily that is driving this, but the fact that I bruised my right knee somehow and I can’t do much in the way of bending or kneeling or climbing stairs. It’s better tonight (lots of ice), but the past few days (Sunday, Monday and today), I have been relegated to something akin to bed rest.

I need to go up and clean my studio so I can do something, but that means a lot of kneeling & bending. Nix that.

I can’t sit at my computer upstairs because it is… dead.

I read one book but I am loathe to start another.

The truth is: I can’t sit still that long any more.

I’ve watched several episodes of an obscure Fox Network television series on Netflix (“Firefly” – can’t imagine how I missed it back when it aired except to say we don’t watch much Fox TV). And I hate sitting still to watch TV.

So while Don is sitting here watching NCIS tonight and I can’t do anything kinesthetic, I find myself – Lost.

I have a great idea! Share some of Don’s photos from his week off hunting. He did not bring me home a chukar, but he took some great photos. (He did kill some but he ate on the road. I can understand: the logistics of bringing a dead bird home to his poor wife are daunting: he’d have to keep it on ice and ice melts in coolers. Oh well. Next year he’ll bring me home a chukar to eat…)

Birds and boredom aside, I have to choose what photos to share. Well, that isn’t terribly hard. Don took some great photos of bullsnakes.

We believe you never harm a bullsnake.They are great rodent hunters and they’re beautiful. Really beautiful. Well, you never harm any snake, even a pit viper like a rattlesnake – so long as you can avoid it. I mean avoid the snake and avoid harming it.

OK, maybe the average person doesn’t think so, but I do. Look at that beautiful pattern.

Bullsnakes often imitate rattlesnakes, even going so far as to shake their tail in a false “rattle”. I’ve never seen it. I’m just telling you what I have read. The snakes Don saw didn’t want to leave the warmth of the road they were on and he had to prod them off with a stick.

What I can tell you with absolute certainty is that a bullsnake was once nearly the death of me. Really. My family still laughs about it. I get no respect.

We were making our way around the perimeter of Borax Lake, walking in ankle-deep salt grass. Snakes love grass. Snakes in the desert really love grass: it is cool.

I was repeating my Mom-Mantra: “Watch For Snakes.” My children were blithely ignoring me and happily plodding through the grass. I was eyeballing every step.

And I still nearly stepped on the head of a Very Large Snake with a diamond pattern skin. I froze. Time froze. My heart skipped several beats. Then I realized the head was blunt and round, not triangular.

Damn bullsnake.

I let the snake cross underneath my feet and began to breathe again.

But that was the only one that ever startled me to that degree.

My computer. So – if I do not post a blog for a few days, it isn’t me that’s gone. It’s my computer that is dead.

I have everything backed up & hopefully I have the password to all my programs saved or memorized so when I get a new computer, I can reload the photo shop programs &c. Gonna be interesting…

Not sure when I will get a new computer – I really just need a new tower. I know Don will want me to buy a new one. I’ll see. I’m not making a decision today.

I may decide on a laptop, but I’m still mulling it around.

And then I’ll have to recycle the old computer (which is well over 10 years old).

In the meantime, I will borrow Don’s computer when I can.

How fun is all this?

No, this isn’t about the heroic rescue of the 33 Chilean miners trapped underground for over 2 months. Nothing I could write could do that event any favor: it will just have to stand on its own.

Nope, this was a struggle for life and death right here in my own front yard.

I was talking to Chrystal on the telephone when it happened: I was watching a young Eastern Fox squirrel rummage through the mess of black sunflower seeds on the ground under the feeder. One of the many black-and-white cats in our neighborhood was patrolling up the busy side-street approximately four houses away. These cats keep a keep eye on the bird feeder in our front yard and this one was no exception. It turned from its path and crossed the street to slink along my neighbor’s yard, pausing only for a moment at the orange fire hydrant.

The cat dropped down into a stalking trot and hurried across our street, ears intent on the squirrel. I thought the squirrel should have seen it: the bugger was facing the street as he ate.

The cat came to the retaining wall and disappeared. I was relating this blow-by-blow to Chrystal now:

“Ok, he’s down below the wall. I’m sure the squirrel saw him. Oh! Little black ears are coming up from behind the wall…”

The stupid squirrel turned his back on the street, intent on seeds.

“He’s got him! Oh my gosh! The cat caught him!”

The cat picked him up by the butt and headed out of my yard, across the street. And the squirrel twisted around.

“Oh! He bit him! He’s free!”

In the next few seconds it was hard to tell who was going to win: tiny squirrel or experienced hunter. A tumble of black-and-white-and-red fur rolled across the lawn and jumped back up above the retaining wall, then rolled around the base of the lone tree in our yard. And suddenly, the squirrel was free! Panting, he dangled on the tree trunk just a few inches above the disgusted cat’s nose before catching his breath and making for the nearest limb.

The cat rolled it’s green eyes, shook it’s collar and trotted off.

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

I have been a very busy little bee around here. I’m pretty surprised myself.

First off, I did not go camping with Don because he was making his camping trip into a bird hunting trip with his bird dog and his shotgun. I’d love to go, don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t, but the logistics changed when I brought Harvey into our little family. Yes, Harvey is a bird dog and I’ve seen him come up onto a point that he held until I flushed the grouse for him, but the truth is: he’s an unproven bird dog as far as having a shot gun fired over his head goes. And camping with Harvey is not as fun as all that: he still doesn’t quite understand boundaries and has to be tethered all the time when camping. If we had the money for a second shock collar, maybe.

Besides, he’d have to stay in camp with me while the Big Boys go hunting and he’d hate that.

He hates that they left him. Oh, he knows they went camping. And he knows he got left behind. He sulked for about 3 hours.

So what have I done with all this time on my hand and no husband underfoot? Well, for starters, not as much as I would have liked to because I have this stupid cold that saps my energy and today it dropped down into my lungs, depriving me of oxygen. I’ve used my emergency inhaler sparingly, but necessarily. I hate my emergency inhaler and the jitters it gives me, but I love that I can breathe. Anyone who suffers asthma knows whereof I speak.

I decided to give my house the kind of cleaning it has not had since we moved in seven years ago: I pulled out furniture and took things off of walls so I could wash walls and baseboards. Of course, I also had to wash the things on the walls and clear out the cobwebs that grew over the summer. I rearranged artwork as I put it back up on the wall.  I plowed through the bathroom, the hall, the living room, dining room and a third of the kitchen in two days. Today I tackled the last two walls in the kitchen.

UGH. We have a gas range with no hood. The wall behind it, the cupboards, and anything near it gets coated with a film of greasy dust. I frequently clean it all up, but it is never a pleasant chore – and this time, I confess that it has been about a year since I’ve looked on top of the refrigerator.

Hey, I think people who can actually see the top of the fridge should clean it, not people like me. I can’t see it. I can barely reach it. I had to stand on a chair to clean it.

I purged half of my refrigerator magnets. I can’t believe I did that. But they were flimsy advertisements from companies I don’t use or that no longer exist and they had to go. Magnets have to have some relevance, you know?

Like magnets from boxes of Celestial Seasons tea.

Or photo magnets. I don’t know why I have more photo magnets of Levi than anyone else. Not sure where the Arwen magnet went. My cousin and her sweetie in a cute little cabin frame. Justin at 3 months. But those are my photo magnets.

Places and Tupperware magnets. I’ve never been to Alaska, but I have three magnets from there. And two from Israel, another place I’ve never been. And some of those places didn’t come out so hot or don’t tell you where they were from: Pike’s Peak, Colorado; an eagle sanctuary in Minnesota…

I think Tupperware is self-explanatory.

Religious magnets. Yes, that one that says “In a world of Copies…” falls under “religious” – it was a gift from a church friend I’ve lost touch with and it reminds me of her. She was very special to me and I wish she hadn’t dropped off the face of the earth.

It’s just random. I love this magnet. Who wouldn’t?

Live streaming folk music from Kent State, Ohio. I have three such magnets. I love Folk Alley.

Smokey the Bear magnets and personal ones from friends: Bob’s Buck Camp is a place where Don goes camping (and a person he camps with) every year. Eagle’s Quest is my dear artist friend, Eric Clanton. And Jesse the Magician is no more, but when he was 12-14 years of age he was quite the magician in the Seattle area. He’s grown up now and moved on to other things. Another friend we’ve lost touch with. 😦

Sort of a dual set of magnets. Ones large enough for little hands so they are where little boys can reach them. The ones on the right are from Starbucks and I swear I had more of them (probably lost somewhere with the Arwen magnet). The ones on the left, now… the wagons are from my very brief stint as a waitress at a place called “Trail’s End Restaurant”. I don’t know if the place exists still or not: I walked off the job with several other waitresses back in 1978, but not before I made them give me a name tag with my name spelled the way I prefer it spelled. And the cows? They came from some church craft night when we all got together and learned how to paint magnets. Yes, I rolled my eyes, but it was fun to get together with several women and do some sort of crafty thing together. I keep the cows because they’re sort of like oxen to my little covered wagons. Really.

The daisies were inspired by Ferdinand the Bull.

It really doesn’t cover all the stuff I’ve done in the past three days, but I’m proud of the front of my refrigerator anyway.

There are more magnets on the side, but aside from FolkAlley.Com – they were pretty boring. So I spared you.

Have a great night and ignore the Fly Lady: I think magnets on a refrigerator are a MUST. 😉

Jaci

It seems like it was a hundred years ago: I was young, naive, and away from home at college. I was on my second room-mate, a woman named Suzanne from Skokie, Ill. She had a great sense of humor and we did some juvenile things that still bring a chuckle to my heart.

One of our stunts was to pass out rumors that Peter, Paul & Mary (who were no longer a group in 1975) were going to perform in the quad. No one showed up, so it was obvious people were onto the fact it was a rumor (or they just didn’t care). We didn’t care. Another time, we decided to go on the air, live, on the college radio station and sing a song together. The midnight disk-jockey lived in the dorm room next to us and he was thrilled that we were up to such a stupid stunt.

First off, harbor no illusions: my voice is flat. I can hear music just fine, but make my voice obey? HA! I sound eerily like Yoko Ono. That is not particularly flattering. It is also why we chose “Give Peace A Chance” for our debut song. Our only song, actually. Suzanne had a voice as bad as mine and I think the disk-jockey turned us off before he got nasty phone calls in the dead of the night. If anyone was listening, that is.

I loved John Lennon. Of all the Beatles, John was the one I most admired. I didn’t care so much for Yoko Ono, but I loved John Lennon’s quick wit, sarcastic come-backs, and the beauty of the songs he penned. The poetry. From “I Am the Walrus” to “Imagine”, John Lennon was a poet.

The day he was assassinated, I remember crying. I cut the article out of the paper and pasted it into my scrapbook and I wondered why no one else seemed as saddened as I felt that day. The world stood still.

Years later, watching “Mr. Holland’s Opus”, I was gratified to see Mr. Holland stunned by the same news: John Lennon was dead. The world had, indeed, stood still for some of us.

Peace had no chance, there was no Imagine, there was no long-haired hippie dude in white mocking our values. John Lennon made us question things: now he was dead. Assassinated. Murdered. Father, husband, musician. The most fringe element of the old Beatles – gone.

I remember their debut on the Ed Sullivan Show. I’m surprised my parents let us watch it. My sister, Denny, and I spent the following week pretending we were the Beatles: she was Paul McCartney and I was John Lennon. Over and over and over again.

Today, John Lennon would have been 70. That is as hard for me to imagine as it is to imagine that in a few weeks I will be (gasp!) 54.

Happy 70th Birthday John. We’re still trying to “Give Peace A Chance” on Earth – but we’re not doing a great job at it.