Sun!

There's a strange bright light in the skies this morning, reflecting off all the snow. Yes, it's still hanging on. But hope is over the horizon. Things are melting.

I discovered that the Hillsboro Unitarian Church is less than 2 miles from our new house, and right off the max line. This is a good thing. The one thing as an atheist that I miss from my somewhat religious childhood is the community of a church. The UUC seems like a viable alternative for us. They are active, focused, involved in social action, and interesting. I do hope we will have found a home with them. We will see. There is also a Yoga and Chiropractic Center just three blocks away. We will have to check that out too.

One of my young neighbors has criticized me for bouncing from charity to charity. Each year we do someone different -- 2008 was Sisters of the Road. I don't really want to stick with one group. They start wanting to give you plaques and stuff, or have you do what "they" want you to do. I make a good effort at finding out what their immediate needs are and respond to them at the time we choose our charity. But I don't want to get identified with just one group. 2009 is going to be a real challenge -- so many groups in such great need. And frankly we are not as financially flush as we were in the past. So it will be challenging.

I'm thinking of making stuff this year -- stuff that people need and want. I'm a quilter, first and foremost. Art is something I play with; quilts are what I make. So I'm going to exhaust my stash on people who really really need a quilt. There are a lot of reasons for needing a quilt, and I can think of quite a few right off the bat.

Scrooge

I looked around my quiet apartment today and realized that my world has shrunk. I'm not sure when that happened, but it was some time shortly before Morgan died I think. The world suddenly became very very focused, and it never got large again. The problem with having a very small world is that you are very much the center of it, and you start to get quite self-centered and (frankly) boring.

When you bore even yourself, it is definitely time to reach out. Of course, reaching out for a few more days may be a bit difficult, though the snow is finally melting. My Canadian friends who are used to feet of snow are laughing at us; but Oregon is definitely not snow country. The whole state sorta ground to a massive screeching halt. Iowans, Minnesotans, Canadians -- all those people -- simply do not understand a place where two feet of snow and ice cause a declaration of a state of emergency. Everything shut down here. And our parking lot structure started collapsing -- those flimsy car port thingies over the spaces couldn't handle the weight of the snow.

Anyway, it is definitely time to start thinking of how to get out and mingle. Mingling -- I don't think I've ever really done that. I've always had a close group of friends, but now they are all far away, living strange and different lives that I no longer understand or have access to. Their tastes have changed; their lives have gone in other directions.

On my bad days I think of myself as this kind of "oh god, that could happen to me" person that once was in their lives. I wonder if it is I who have left them, or if they have left me. I suppose it got to be a bit much, what with dead daughter, dead husband, cancer, hepatitis, and depression. It is no secret that I went into major meltdown. But now I'm in the middle of the puddle, ready to get out and get dry, and I can't find the towel. (block that metaphor!)

Yes, dear readers. Scrooge has found a nice warm corner in my house. He's looking at me expectantly, hoping that I'll have another cry fest or something equally unseasonable so he can gloat. I will get out of this pity party sooner or later, I'm sure. Perhaps it has something to do with the damn weather putting the house back about a month; or the money running out; or ... something.

I'm gonna go make a list of all the things I hope for next year and start the planning for making them happen. Right after I find the kleenex box and the single malt. Christmas. Humph. Well, the Yorkshire Pud and Prime Rib were good.

What Is This White Stuff?

I left Iowa to get away from this shyte. I am looking out at my parking lot, knowing that I will have to take up my neighbor's offer to do shopping for us today. It is white out there, with a straight sheet of ice leading from car to street. I can see the sun glistening off it, though I cannot see my car. It's in there somewhere. At 28 degrees there is little hope of this stuff melting any time soon. Dang!!!

The new house will be far warmer than this apartment, which has more drafts than Pres. Johnson. I wish we were in it NOW; patience is not one of my strong suits. I'm waiting for painting to be done, flooring installed, plumbing fixtures put in, tile laid, lighting fixtures... in other words all the finish details.

I'm also trying to plan my studio, and coming up against a solid brick wall on the layout of my work area. But I think I see light at the end of the tunnel.

Thomas... 1995-2008

Thomas came to live with Rex in 1995, along with his litter brother Fir. From the beginning Thomas was one of those kitties that always fought over weight. From early kittenhood if his bowl was empty he would push it around the floor as a signal that something was drastically wrong here, there's no food in this thing.

Though Thomas was the larger of the two, Fir was most definitely the Alpha male, a fact they re-established on a regular basis. Not that they fought a lot -- they were close brothers and would sleep and eat together regularly.

Thomas was a shy fellow -- while Fir was on the shoulder or lap of just about every stranger who came through the door, Thomas was hiding in the closet, sure that something dire would happen if that monster ever found him. He had no favorite toys except his food bowl and was not blessed with a roaming or curious mien. He preferred warm spots, soft pillows, and full bowls. He was easy going, affectionate, and given to regular rituals of petting, cuddling, and grooming.

There is a cat-shaped hole in the house for now. Two days ago Thomas went to the vet for teeth cleaning and care for an eye infection that had resulted in a blocked tear duct. He never woke up. Autopsy showed that he had lymphoma, carrying an excessive amount of fluid around. We never knew he was ill. He gave no sign of anything wrong other than a very mild weight loss which we attributed to age and careful monitoring of his diet. He seemed quite normal; but he was not. Fir seems to miss him, but is not seeking him. I think perhaps this is because he spent some time with Thomas after he died. I don't know what goes on in those little kitty minds.

Losing pets is a regular part of the life of those of us who choose to live with animals. It never gets easier, but the pleasure and joy of their presence and the sweetness of the memories makes it all worth it. Goodbye Thomas.

And If That Weren't Enough

More house pictures; more coming. The dry wall has been finished and the painting is supposedly happening right now, at this very moment. We have chosen a pale green for the main floor, and a pearly off-white for upstairs. Then we can PLAY! Stencils, here I come.

We Been Busy

Aside from the cold some kind person gave me, the discovery of all new muscles I didn't know I had but they are telling me I am there, it was fun. And we get to do it all again next weekend. Frankly it was quite disappointing, but I heard the same from all of the merchants. No one appears to have any money they want to spend.