Took a fabulous two-day trip to Crater Lake by motorcycles. A bit rushed, but still fabulous. The month before, we did a day trip to Mt. St. Helens.
I've done almost 10,000 miles on my motorcycle. And I've decided to dedicate a portion of my web site to women who travel by motorcycle (or want to).
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Last weekend, we road our bicycles (yes, our other bikes) around the 'hood for a little exercise & to look at garage sales (I was channeling my Mamaw). For $5, we end up with: a coffee maker (makes 12 cups at once, as opposed to our current one, which makes 4), a broken boom box (they swore it worked when we bought it - we'll be able to use the speakers, which is what we really wanted), never-used lipstick, a biography of John Adams (hardback!), a basket (for a planter) & a toilet paper roll holder. AND I FIT ALL OF THAT ON MY BICYCLE IN ONE TRIP. I looked like a bicycle rider in a developing country. Sorry - no photo. Which is a shame, because I got a LOT of looks.
We discovered that the neighborhood about four blocks from us is waaaaay nice. Gorgeous homes, with small front yards and big back yards - our dream. But we're not going to move there - we want OUT OF CANBY. We just need a job to make that happen.
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Go to Google.com. Search for cute biker guy. Note item #3.
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Recently, I finally saw the original To Be Or Not to Be (movie). I now totally understand why Mel Brooks adored this movie so much that he wanted to remake it. What a gem! I love the remake as well. If you don't know the movie, you aren't alone: by the time it came out, the USA was at war with Japan and Germany, and the star of the movie was dead, killed in a plane crash on her way to promote war bonds. So sad, because had circumstances been different, it would have been a massive hit, and remembered for its scathing, snarky attack on the Nazis and their ideology.
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A friend posted this to my wall on Facebook:
"Anything that disappears from your psychological inventory is apt to turn up in the guise of a hostile neighbor, who will inevitably arouse your anger and make you aggressive. It is surely better to know that your worse enemy is right there in your own heart."-Carl Jung (I read this quote, and thought of you!)
Yes, my neighbors with the all-hours screaming kids are, of course, a manifestation of the negative factors within my psychological inventory. You know, like the monster in Forbidden Planet. Just like that.
My rants on Facebook about the screaming kids that live in the house behind ours lead a Facebook frenemy to say I was being anti-children. I pointed out that I had never complained about the kids - all under 12 - that live next door. I've never complained about the kids that live on our street (teenagers - my least favorite thing!). And that these screaming kids in particular are so loud, the noise so constant, that my other neighbors, the ones that live across the street from us, who live at least 300 yards away from these neighbors, that live on a different street, came over while we were out of town to investigate the noise, convinced that there was a wild party happening in our back yard.
These kids, all under 12, have no bed time. They have been out on their trampoline in the back yard, screaming, at 10 at night on school nights. They scream and cry constantly when they are outside. The family leaves all the windows open at night and at least one of the kids is doing that loud, fake, whine-cry at 11 p.m. at night, setting off the grandmother, who starts screaming. And we hear it all, as we lay in bed, with our windows closed... I don't like to sleep in earplugs, because then I can't hear Albi, or any other noises in the house.
The music starts at about noon, and plays loudly through the day - and often into the night. When we're particularly unlucky, it's music with a loud bass, meaning nothing can block the vibration from our house.
Why do the kids scream and cry? My theory is that they are sleep-deprived. Life is a frenzy in that house, so they are always in a frenzy. The noise is constant, so they, in turn, make noise constantly. Their screams are sudden and piercing - I have jumped a mile when one of the little girls in particular lets loose, usually while jumping on the trampoline. The whine-crying starts as soon as a grandparent comes outside (the parents are rarely around) and just goes on and on.
This is not normal. And if you think this is normal, please, unfriend me now and never invite me over. The kids that next door, on our street, get loud - but it's never been annoying - it's that normal, happy sound-of-kid-chaos, and it always ends by 8 p.m.
We would just love to have dinner outside on our back porch one night - ONE NIGHT - and be able to have a conversation. When we try, we both say, "What?!" at least half a dozen times, unable to hear each other over the din. Usually, we just sit there, eating quietly without trying to talk amid the screams and crying.
We would love to be able to watch TV and have the back door open, letting in the cool night air, but we can't - we can't hear the TV over the screams and crying and grandmother-yelling.
What we would really love: to move. And only a job can allow that.
Call the police? I don't think the police would do anything, and I think it would add hostility to the situation, something I've been desperate to avoid.
So don't freakin' write me and say I don't like kids. You come stay here for a week, and then we'll talk.
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I got a little emotional reading this article about the soundtrack to Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?. This soundtrack is very special to me, both because of the music, because of the reaction of so many friends and music stores to it, and because of the time of my life when this came out. It's nice to know more about the back story.
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Big, big soccer tourney going on at the schools all around our hood all weekend, for under 12s. Really love seeing kids - especially girls - playing sports. Love hearing parents on the sidelines yelling encouragement - in English and Spanish. Love seeing parents there at all - that must be an amazing feeling, to look over at the sidelines and see a parent there.
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Just 91 years ago this month, all women in the USA got the right to vote. I am so grateful to all those who fought so hard to make that happen, who fought in the face of so much hostility. May I be so brave.
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I found this web site and got nothing done for an hour.
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To create jobs, SOMEONE has to spend money: either consumers, the government, or the corporations making record-breaking profits and paying oh-so-few-taxes. For jobs, SOMEONE HAS TO SPEND MONEY. Who is it going to be?
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If you aren't going to read Last Train to Memphis, the greatest rock and roll biography ever, then you at least need to read this article about why Elvis was such a revolutionary, and so important to American culture.
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A recent Facebook status update: Ya'll better watch out: I just watched Freedom Riders, taped on PBS months ago, and I'm ready to sit my butt somewhere strategic and start singing "We shall not be moved." I'm most scary when I'm this filled with indignation about assaults on human rights. RUN! RUN FOR THE HILLS!
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Star Wars If Dr. Seuss Had Created It!. Full of win.
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Obama has taken 1/3 the vacation days that Bush did at this point in his presidency. Here's what should be the real outrage: The U.S. Is The Only Developed Country Where Citizens Aren’t Guaranteed Paid Vacation.
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Actually, that's not in the Bible. If you read it, you'd know that.
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