summer cold

I'm sick. I remember one night in a bar, in the Jubilee Club to be precise, when Cooky and I sat around thinking of epitaphs. It seemed like an appropriate activity given our suicidal lifestyle. Hers was going to read, "I told you I was sick." My favorite epitaph was written by a cowboy in the very old west. It read, "Here lies the man that stole my horse."

I don't think I'm facing imminent death, but I am sick of being sick. Last week I was puking, this week it is a summer cold. It sounds so innocuous-- "summer cold"--all mint-julepy and sweet. A minor inconvenience at most-- maybe a moment or two napping in the porch swing will clear it up. Not this. I can't swallow, can't speak, can't think. It is invading my ears. My head is full of mud and it is hovering at the base of my throat, threatening to invade my lungs. And that scares me. My lungs are so weak from years of bronchitis. I am so susceptible. I am beginning to cough.

On to nicer subjects.



This is my husband spreading sand where he is about to lay pavers for a pool pad in the back yard. Every year we put up the pool and kill the grass. We decided to make it more pool friendly. Its either this or A/C.













The stones we chose are called Roman Dominion. Sounds serious. They look like an old roman road and are just about as easy to build.














mountain of dirt, or, if you wish, free sod. U Haul.














So, it is 100 degrees in Portland and the newscasters are on it. Extreme weather alerts. I love Portland.

birthday

I started puking at midnight on the 14th as if in celebration. I puked through my entire special day. I haven't puked that much since I was a child. Buckets of bile. As a failed bulemic, it was kind of exciting, but overall, not that much fun. I did lose eight pounds. It is now, I think, the 17th, and I have missed two days of my life. The symptoms went south yesterday and another day devoted to rest and repair. Whew. It is not the norovirus, just in case you were wondering.

I am some better now.

For my birthday I got a diamond band to go with my wedding ring, which is really an engagement solitaire. We wanted it to look more like a traditional set, so added this band. It is sparkly. I love it. And a card covered with pink roses that said, "Beautiful as always" and I know he wrote it while I slept, puke in my hair and on my breath as he kissed me goodbye. Its good to have a husband.

My ailment is from working in a place with old people who catch everything, and young women with children who bring in bugs by the b'zillions and can't afford to stay home sick. A bad combination. Add to that, I always get sick at a new job. I think there are new bugs at each place, and I need to develop immunity to them. It takes time, and one hard hit at least. This was a doozy. But it is not bronchial, which is a huge relief. That scares me.

Time to wash my hair and try to leave the house for the first time in days. There are garage sales waiting.

Back now... got a bike in Boring. And strawberries. A flat for 15 bucks. I'll make freezer jam today or tomorrow. They are pretty good, but I think needed a little more sun to up the sugar content. So, I'll up the sugar content my own self.

OH! Big news. My son called and told me my house is gone. My first house in Talent. As I suspected, the bitch I sold it to was just a schill for a developer. Scooped it up and tore it down. My kitchen. My tile countertops. My sweet little cottage. I'll always think of it as Spencer's house, I think. His yard. His deck. His grave. I should have taken my mother's Peace rose, and the big hunk of rose quartz that Marky got for me. I should have taken more pictures. Ah, should have. What words.

Truth is, I didn't want anyone else to live in it. It was my house and now it is gone. I guess it is actually pushed to the back of the property awaiting demolition. Oh, well. I knew they were trying to put a road through from Talent Avenue to the highway, and that they'd go through Totem Pole trailer park to do it, and my property was one of the only things standing in the way. They would have forced me out sooner or later anyway. Progress. Sprawl. I'll never forget the view, or sitting on my deck of a spring morning, drinking cinnamon-laced coffee, listening to the meadowlark in the sycamore trees and petting my old dog. I thought I'd be there forever. I never thought I'd be here.

But, here I am.

transparent

This is my window. Isn't it pretty??

dropping betty

Last night the pager went off. I was riding on the back of our motorcycle in downtown traffic. It is the kickoff of Rose Festival week and everyone was beating feet to see the fireworks, or trying to get out of the city to avoid traffic, which creates traffic. Its endless. There are a lot of cars, and you just gotta get your best zen goin' and sit it out. I learned this commuting 3 hours a day to McMinnville. Do not rush hour. I listen to the drone of public radio and occasionally hear something of worth. Mostly I listen to the syntax of OPB reporters who say rad-i-O (emphasis on the third syllable) rather than RAD-i-o. Like most people do. They are so very very "this-is-Chris-tian-Fo-den-ven-sil" Everyone has an accent, accentutated, and I always love to listen to the social elite reporting oppression.

So there I was, in traffic, pipes rattling as we progressed light to light, and the pager went off. It is loud, thankfully, and I called in to find out what was up. "We dropped Betty." "Oh," I say. "Well, this happens." If you are uninitiated, humans are slippery when wet, and from time to time, they just get away from you. I don't want to live so long that someone has to bathe me, but if I do, I hope I understand. But the girls.... they work so hard, and care so much, so much more than is useful or productive, and get so attached. And dropping a whole person on the floor is astonishing. Whoosh, and there they go. And they are so breakable. Betty didn't break though, just a little tear on her paper skin. And Betty doesn't have the disadvantage of memory any longer, so it was over as soon as it began, for her.

We had dinner at Dan and Louis Oyster Bar. It was good to be downtown among the lights and noise and throng of humanity.