Skip to main content

A little more rain for good measure

The past several days have been more wet than dry, with the past two all wet. In fact, we were cranking up the volume on the TV to hear it over the sound of the downpour. Today, however, is showing the promise of some blue sky peaking through the clouds. We'll have to wait until the foliage dries out a bit before we can mow.
The rain was the result of the remnants of tropical depression Daniel. The storm began as Hurricane Daniel, then became Tropical Storm Daniel as it got nearer to us, then became a tropical depression (whatever that is) then because nothing more than some rain. It wasn't very exciting. We didn't lose power or anything. Ron and I have a new thing when the power goes out. We hang out on the lanai with a giant flashlight and play scrabble.
We have too much stuff. Despite our efforts to purge in Colorado before the move, we still have more than we need, want or have room for. This is a tiny house, after all. We've been making trips to Wal-mart and Home Depot to buy shelves and plastic cabinets.
Not much else is new. Oh... the new tennis racquet play great and the new (OK pre-owned) car is zipping along nicely and 28 miles per gallon. The furballs are all well and life is pretty good here in the rainforest.
I'll write more soon. Until then, Alo-o-o-o-o-o-ha!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mom

This is my beautiful mom. She died last Sunday. For those who knew her, my heart breaks with you. For those who did not, here's an introduction to the best confidante, role model and mother a girl could hope for in life. This is the obituary I'd planned to submit to the local paper, but have opted instead to publish here. Obituary: Beverly Todd Bev -- my mom -- was a longtime caregiver, advocate, and dear friend to countless elderly in South Salem. Hers was a kind and generous spirit. She devoted much of her life to the welfare of others, giving wholly of herself and doing so always with great affection and humor. She was born Beverly Marie Steinberger in Silverton, July 23, 1938, the first child and only daughter of Art and Marie Steinberger. Her brothers called her Bevvy Buns, a nickname she grew fond of and wore proudly within the family circle as an adult. Bev attended St. Paul’s Elementary School in Silverton, Silverton High School and Marylhurst Co...

Back at it

It's been some time since I've written. My mom died in February, and I haven't had the gumption to write much, other than a couple of feature stories for the paper and the occasional pithy email to a friend. Tonight, sitting in my favorite burger joint with a pile of fries in front of me, I dunk them into a deep pool of ketchup mixed with a hot sauce. That's how Mom liked 'em. My burger? The Spicy Hawaiian, a nod to my 808 connections. It's a brilliant combination of peppers and pineapple, a favorite on the Power Stop menu. I'm sure she'd have loved it, too. There's a bubbly beer with a lime in it. That's not a homage to anything. I just like beer. These past months, I've done little but work, search and apply for jobs. Two rejection letters have landed in my email this week. Search-and-apply has become a futile obsession. It's time for a break, at least until I hear back from all those applications still floating around out there. I am...

Small town observations

Every day at noon, a siren blares from atop the city government building in Gunnison. Each time I hear it, I want to shout, “Yabba dabba doo!” even though it’s nowhere near happy hour. I’ve blurted this once or twice, only to elicit blank stares in response. Am I that old? Doesn’t anyone remember the The Flintstones? I hear that horn and imagine Fred sliding down the long neck of his gravel-quarry dino-dozer (which, thanks to Jurassic Park and the miracle of Google we all recognize now as riojasaurus). Quitting time! Fred flees, his fleet feet slapping toward a rack o’ ribs and a night of good times with Wilma, Barney, Betty and Dino. That’s Dino the dino, pronounced Deeno the dyno. Think that’s delusional? Another day, walking downtown near the source of the noontime wale, it struck me, a revelation it was, that the ramp up to full blast sounds just like the introduction to Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Blue, only this is a mega-air-raid, civil-defense siren solo rather than a clarinet, whic...