Stephanie says

Lawn chairs drawn closely together, knees touching, we lounge on the back porch sipping icy cold beer, laughing and talking while watching the huge harvest moon hug the horizon. A wash of moonlight illuminates the barn.  The moon slowly rises in the dimming night sky, diminishing in size as it ascends higher and higher against the perspective of the skyline. Moonbeams peep through leafy branches of the canopy of an ancient maple tree, and briefly disappear. He sings “Angel from Montgomery” a capella, a favorite John Prine tune, the progression of G, C, D, F chords enchanting in my ear. He looks at me and grins on the high notes. This man can’t carry a tune, but no matter, I treasure this moment. I laugh but it catches in my throat as my heart swells in an intoxicating rush of breathlessness, joy, contentment, and soaring love. It is a perfect evening. Speaking strictly for me, we both could have died than and there.* (Words and Music by Joan Baez) Well I'll...

This is where I leave you Jonathon Tropper I just finished this – dark humor at its best – about a family coping after the death of the father. I laughed uproarishly throughout, my dogs kept running to me to share in the fun. It’s sad too; I had to wipe away the occasional tear. I hadn’t heard of the author – but now I have and ordered two earlier books – hope they’re as good. The author’s observations of sexual acts are detailed and snortingly humorous. Fun as sex is, it surely looks as ridiculous to the uninvolved as any barnyard coupling. Remember your astonishment upon learning about the birds and bees? Who among us didn’t see the ick factor and vowed “I’ll never do THAT.” Ah, we were wrong about so many things. The protagonist’s portrayal of his childhood is bittersweet and his depictions of the siblings is wickedly brilliant. Interactions between the sibs and spouses have surprising and often uncomfortable results. I was pleased with the ending – no spoiler h...

I’ve volunteered at a variety of organizations over the years. I loved hammering away at Habitat builds where I also served on the board of directors. I was the go-to person for mitered trim boards. I do love angles. My friend Tim commented on this photo “What, they ringing the dinner bell?” Wise guy. I ushered at a community theater the second Wednesday of each play which meant I got to see all the plays. “Cat on a hot tin roof” in the round was magnificent! I sat mesmerized in the first row, arms length proximity to Brick, played by a marvelously formed male clad only in tighty-whities during the first act. My, oh my, but I enjoyed that play. My winter working schedule is down to one day per week. I could be writing a book but for an elusive plot, so I decided to devote some of my free time volunteering. My particular workday floats, dependent on business needs so I need a drop-in volunteer position. I met with the staff at the United Way office to discuss options. They aim to match ...

Bag of Bones By Stephen King Published 1998 I just finished this book and enjoyed its conversational style. I’ve read so few books by prolific author Stephen King. Why? Because I’m a big scaredy cat and reading spooky stuff is at my peril. I wasn’t allowed to see scary movies as a child, this mandate following my older brother’s watching “The Blob” and having horrendous nightmares for months. There were no such restrictions on scary books although I didn’t read many. I had enough weird dreams where I’d wake in terror and make a torturous dash down the hallway to jump into bed with my parents screaming “Mom!” all the way. At age 18 I read some strange devil worship novel that scared me badly enough that I slept in my mother’s bed, my back to hers so I could watch for the boogey man coming to get me in the wee hours. I (barely) slept in her bed for two weeks. Scaredy, scaredy cat. There were a few ghosty rumblings in the early chapters of “Bag of Bones” that gave me pause. I wondered if ...

The Marriage Plot By Jeffrey Eugenides This is the second book I’ve read by Jeffrey Eugenides. The first was “Middlesex” which alas, I did not finish. Eugenides’ books require serious concentration for me to read. His use of language and extensive vocabulary intrigue me yet make me feel undereducated. Maybe it’s his Ivy League background and I’m a state college type… “The Marriage Plot” set in college is a tale of a woman and two men immersed in a love triangle, told from the perspective of each. One character, Mitchell, studies religious philosophy and provides Eugenides a format to delve into a broad spectrum of religious dogma. A Russian fable from “A Confession” by Tolstoy particularly captured my attention. I have to admit the only Tolstoy I’ve read to-date is “Anna Karenina” which I have not finished. Stuck on page 337 for oh, the last year or so, and just not that interested… Are you sensing a trend here? To paraphrase the fable: A man chased by a monster jumps into a well. He s...

I have vivid dreams. They explode into my deep sleep with movie intensity, reel after reel. Something I suspect rather peculiar is the particular location of these dreams. The vast majority of them are in two settings: one atop our grassy hill where I lived as a child in pastoral Sitkum in a little, pink stick-built house surrounded by myrtle trees; the other a two-story porched house set amongst towering trees where a middle-school friend lived at the end of our lane in Eugene. As I write that line I realize I visualize these same locations while reading. The plantation at Tara is at the Eugene location in my mind. Think about your dream locales peeps. Do you have primary locations where dreams occur? I’d love to hear your thoughts. The other night my dream took me to the seashore but through a curious landscape shape shift, now an ocean cove butted up to the Sitkum grassy hill. The actual ocean was just beyond a peninsula, which one could reasonably expect to protect the cove from br...

From the time he was a very small boy he had a recurring dream. More familiar each time, he finds himself in a residential area in unknown city. He is confused because he is alone, walking on a sidewalk on a street lined with hovering and somehow big menacing houses, late at night, catching glimpses of the moon as scudding clouds cross the night sky. Fog billows and condenses around street lamps glowing dim then bright in wafts of mist. He’s not allowed to be out at after dark and he is certainly not permitted to be wandering unfamiliar city streets alone. He is very frightened but continues walking. He notices a twisted, wickedly speared wrought iron fence next to the sidewalk, looks up and sees a square multi-storied brick house fronted with many darkened windows, a column lined vestibule centered between them. Trees are creaking and groaning in the breeze. Gazing at the house his feelings of foreboding escalate to terror. He knows something bad is about to happen. Something really, ...

Must renew my passport, a task I’ve put off for two years. But gotta do it as I’m meeting my daughter in Barcelona shortly. So I woman up and hit The Shutterbug, a camera shop that shoots passport photos. This is the first time the clerk who’s helping me has done one, giving me an instant feeling of dread. She is shorter than me which results in a shot up my nose making me look like a pinhead with slits for eyes. No neck and my hair just looks like a Cocker Spaniel. All this confidence stealing for a mere $9.99. I’m horrified by the end result. Glancing at my expired passport once home, I remember thinking that photo made me look maniacal. Amazing the perception change in 12 years… Now I think I looked just fine. Well yeah, younger and thinner, and a little giddy with excitement. I compared the two photos, then and now, knowledge I’m stuck with the next passport photo for 10 years struck fear to my vanity. Melissa took a look, I noticed she sort of pursed her mouth, trying t...

He’s on the phone, on hold. I’m getting ready to leave. I’m pacing, waiting for the phone call to end. I turn and it seems I’ve caught him checking out my ass. Maybe. But he’s just gazing at me with this steady look. You know the one. I realize in that heartbeat he has fallen in love with me. My knees are jelly.

I work for a man with a passion for Ducks football – to the extent that our firm maintains the landscape at Autzen Stadium for free. The season for Ken is a feverish mix of season tickets, boisterous tailgate parties and of course, the main event. The GAME. Which hopefully includes jetting off to the playoffs. And even more hopefully, a WIN this year. My knowledge of football is limited. I dated a guy in high school nicknamed “Tasmanian Devil” for his prowess on the field – hey that counts because I sat in the bleachers and pretended to watch. I am partial to the term “tight end” (position) just because of the image it conjures up in my bawdy mind. And of course, the actual football is a funny, oblong pigskin ball. Oh and you get seven points for something. Ken invited me to the Oregon:Washington State. “Thank you for thinking of me. But no. I don’t like football.” “What?” “Yeah, I really hate football.” Big stare, long pause, funny look. This was clearly so out of his realm of the pos...

Written by Amy Tan, published in 1996. I’ve read a lot of her novels over the years with great enjoyment; the first I heard of this book was when my friend Steven lent me his copy. My nose was stuck in that book until I finished. Amy Tan is a great storyteller. I enjoy her portrayal of a modern American heroine’s interactions with her Chinese immigrant sister. The characters are fully developed and take on a life of their own. It’s a good read. This novel is about fate and reincarnation, two subjects that enthrall me. Right now I’m particularly intrigued with the concept of fate. BFF Melissa and I have a long-running discussion about fate. She’ll comment about some life event “It it’s meant to be, it will be.” And I’ll counter with “So does that mean you believe in fate?” “No, not necessarily.” “But if you believe what’s meant to be is – well then isn’t that predestination?” “No, not necessarily.” Mind you, I’m merely trying to pin Melissa down on her actual belief, (or perhaps drive h...

Post from my child: "My first go at rock climbing!" posted by Into the Invisible World at 11:01 PM on Oct 7, 2011 Comment: Stephanie said... Sure. Every mothers wish to see only child dangling from ropes while climbing a sheer precipice – halfway round the world. Hmmm. Hey my girl, you could do this at Smith Rock... I have turned into my mother.

A postcard from my girl. This buddha dating from 751 is in the Seokguram Grotto, (Mt. Tohamsan)in S Korea

On my way home from work this afternoon I stopped and picked these beauties, organic plum tomatoes destined for a divine sauce. A bushel cost me $12 and will yield a heady aroma of sun-kissed tomatoes in the drear of winter. Hansen's Farm has a produce stand and u-pick fields. A sign instructs if stand is unmanned to deposit payment for your purchase in the lockbox. Naked Tomato Sauce from Smitten Kitchen. I made this recipe the other night, it smelled so wonderful I decided photo be damned, and ate the evidence. This is an amazing sauce!

Surfing the net recently a Match.com popup popped up. I thought “Gee, I should take a look.” And I did. One fellow really caught my eye. He was articulate, big plus. Among other things, his great fishing photo struck me. But peeps, as we all know, I am nothing if not frugal. Possibly parsimonious. Whatever. I searched the web for free dating sites and “Plenty of Fish” ranked high and is totally free. Okay. Time for me to venture back into the dating scene. I signed up. Within the hour, and I am not (for once) exaggerating, there was THE fisherman sending me a message. I responded that I’d been looking for a fisherman as I needed fish frames (that would be the carcass for you non-cooks) to perfect my beurre blanc sauce. And the rest, as they say, is history. Music swells in the background. Think literary love stories, crossed signals, little misadventures, like Cyrano de Bergerac and Roxane, such lovely tales. Well, this is nothing like that. Joe and I make a date (his...

Breaking News - Heat crazed woman in temperate Yoncalla apparently loses mind. Seen running down main street of town. Bare naked. Flappin big boobs and large white ass. Two dogs on her heels, one smallish black lab dog. The other, a behometh black and white sheepdog. People were shielding their eyes but alas, that image is burnt forever into their memories. No clue to her identity. Yet. Over and out.

This Is Just To Say by William Carlos Williams I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold Moose's version: I have eaten the plums and raspberries and blackberries and gooseberries. The grapes are next.

Acanthus mollis These babies grow in my grape vines and are very tall, thorny spikes with a most unusual flower. Click on the images to see them enlarged. The vase is 12 inches tall to give a sense of scale!

Wonderful fragrance! Click on image to enlarge.

I was outside this fine morning enjoying a cup of coffee when I heard the dogs rustling in the side yard, then a big yelp, and the Mooster came bounding past, frothing at the mouth, heading right inside the house. My first thought was, “damn, a skunk” and sure enough. I got the big boy outside in record time. He was still frothing. I figure he bit the rear end of that itty bitty skunk, his reward a hit of skunk musk directly in the mouth. Dogs can’t spit but he sure was trying. Rosie appeared unscathed apparently recalling her two encounters last year. But Moose is not as quick a learner. I gave him a quick douse with soapy water and a cold water hose rinse. Tough love. Then I headed off to work. He was lucky to get a biscuit before I left… I had one stinky dog upon my return this afternoon and one baby skunk carcass (in full rigor) to deal with. The dog got the magic peroxide/baking soda bath. The skunk, carefully double bagged with a very long handled pitchfork, tossed ...

First time ever bloom from this plant - which I've had for at least six years. Peonies don't like to be moved... The color came as a complete surprise to me! Their fragrance is ethereal. But I'm moving this baby into a sunnier location. Last time. I promise.

I'm thinking about painting (using the intense colors in the second shot) a couple wooden chairs on my front porch. Too much? Wonder if I can spray paint them? Gardening time constraints...

I got an email from a kid from grade school who’d happened across this blog. It so amazes me to make a connection through the invisible magic of the internet. I conjured up some memories from grade school then phoned my brother to see what he remembered about David’s family. Michael is two years older than me so presumably has more childhood details stored in his brain. Or not. I gave him a quick rundown, then say, “So you remember the grandparents, right? He was named Ivan. They lived in that lovely house with eyebrow dormers. I loved the interior.” “Sure I remember that house but I was never inside.” “Maybe you were at school because I’ve been in that house.” Then I say, “David’s uncle lived at the dairy farm next to us. What was his name?” “Oh, that’s Kenneth. He and Ivan were brothers.” I say, “Ivan was the father. Kenneth had children our ages.” “No, I think you’re wrong.” “Am not.” “Are too.” I say, “I think David was in my grade. Or was that Steven? They lived on a ...

We meet downtown at the park. I am so happy to see him, we are elated to see each other, we’re both grinning ear to ear and can’t stop touching. We talk excitedly, our words rushing into and over each others conversation. Our hands are clasped tightly. I’m never letting go. My eyes open and spy the bedside alarm clock; it reads 12:15 a.m. Dammit, I let go of his hand. But I’m still grinning. He died 12 years ago and I miss him dreadfully, but I’m happy when he comes to me in dreams now and again.

I discovered this flower some years ago and adored the shape and color of the stem. I moved and looked about for a replacement plant unsuccessfully until this year. Knew it was close to "mullet" and did a lot of looking on the internet. Eureka! I found a local source - wholesale! And love the flower as much as ever.

In a few blinks the first four months of 2011 have disappeared into the past. Contrarily however, since the onset of my diet*, 14 weeks within those four months sputtered and dragged. Go figure. * Live-it actually

I enjoy listening to “Fresh Air” with Terry Gross on NPR on my daily commute home. The wide ranging subjects and the typically articulate speakers are a delightful and stimulating interlude. One program earlier this week interviewed the two authors of “Bang Bang”, a story about the hazards and hardships of investigative reporting in war zones. Listening away I was caught up in the telling by one author until I kept hearing “you know” in just about every sentence. I found myself counting “you know” and lost the thread of the story. (This counting is an annoying habit formed during my Lamaze training.) I found myself waiting for the next “you know” until I couldn’t take another “you know” and changed the radio station. My daughter developed the lazy speech pattern of “you know” which drove me to distraction. We two were together practically every moment during a four-week trip when the “you know” phrase broke me. I began consistently replying “Yes I do know” and by the end of ...

A hellacious windstorm blew through my town recently and a huge Douglas Fir tree toppled in its wake. It fell straight down my property line and took out 100 ft of my fence. The porch roof was damaged but I counted myself fortunate that it didn’t land on my house. The butt is six-foot in diameter, I stopped measuring it at 76 ft with a six-inch diameter. Big, big tree. Just so you know, according to the insurance company the property owner where a tree lands has the liability. So its up to me to get rid of this behemoth. And replace the fence. And repair the porch roof. With a cash influx from the insurance company minus my deductible. My neighbor helped me put up some temporary fencing on either side of the porch so the dogs wouldn’t be able to climb out over the tree. This didn’t work at all as both dogs jumped off the porch rail onto the lawn. Much to my dismay Rosie discovered an escape route. On two separate occasions she took off when I was out in the yard. I called her name, s...

First the quince, now the lone azalea in bloom. Hooray for spring!

I’ve been following the “Primal Blueprint” for seven weeks now and have lost nine pounds and my lipid panel has improved. It works! And it works for me because I like to cook as much as I like to eat. Very simply stated: Primal Blueprint is a lifestyle of eating organic meats, vegetables, and fats. As I had followed the Atkins diet since August 2010 I was used to eating very little of grains & rice, legumes, or processed foods. These foods are discouraged in Primal. Hmmm, taco chips are processed – and they were my last holdout junk food. And I do love black beans and rice… I eat meat. I eat dairy. I eat fruits and vegetables. I eat fat, my favorite food group. I recommend reading the book for all sorts of informative and thought provoking information on nutrition and exercise. Primal’s dietary structure is in direct contradiction to the Food Pyramid, the dietary guidelines promoted by the USDA which touts eating a diet heavy in carbs and light in protein and fats. Interested in th...

Yesterday at work I received a call from my neighbor saying my dogs had opened the gate and escaped. Russ lured them back into the yard with dog treats but they’d figured out how to open the latch and they escaped again, (they’re smart and persistent). He corralled them back inside the yard but this time twined the gate shut. I was intensely thankful, envisioning them hurt, lost, or stolen and sold to the dog factory. Gulp. The ground had shifted since the fence was installed, pulling the gate post out of plumb and leaving a gap on the latch just the right size to be dog-nosed open. I’d fleetingly considered how to fix the gap, and discarded the “best” method of actually resetting the post as too labor intensive. I figured there must be an extender that would pull the latch up snug against the fence post – so I was off to the hardware on a quest. In these situations I gravitate toward the seasoned (okay, older) clerks as their experience results in a higher level of knowledge and creat...

I've been thinking about weeding my garden plot. It has a nice, sunny location and is much favored by numerous garter snakes. I was turning the soil last season and located many, MANY snake burrows, each one giving me a nasty turn even though I was protected by boots and wielding a long-handled implement. So wondering if surprise burrows with sleeping snakes are in store for me this season brought to mind the following stories: Story 1: To: Tim My fierce hunter Rosie killed a snake and brought it home for me. I wandered out to the lawn and immediately noticed the distinctive white underbelly of a dead reptile prominent on the green grass - then noticed the lovely tan diamond pattern on the other side. Yikes, a friggin rattlesnake. I kept hoping she'd eat the damn thing and relieve me of disposing of it - but no go. She had a great deal of fun tossing the carcass in the air - it kept moving all over the place and I jumped and shrieked numerous times discovering it in a new locat...

I drink a lot of tea and tisanes, (a non-tea herbal drink). I’ve been amassing recipes, searching for ingredients I can grow in my garden. There are gazillion tisanes besides the standard mint or chamomile drinks. Inspiration struck when I walked past a violet patch, its wonderful fragrance catching my nose and imagination. I take delight in growing or gathering edible foodstuff. I must have been a medicine woman in a past life, gathering roots and berries and making concoctions to soothe a bellyache or ease a sore throat. Or maybe it’s now that I really am on my way to becoming a herbalist. This all fascinates me. I found recipes for violet syrup, jellies, tisane and a LOVE POTION. “In some countries people wear a violet leaf in their shoe for 7 days to find a love and treble that in terms of leaf and days on occasions, depending how desperate they are I suppose. Mixed with lavender flowers, violets are said to be an aphrodisiac, whether in a tisane or just the smell is not clear.” (f...

Have read the first three chapters - and found this book to be uproariously funny. I've been chortling! Claire Dederer's writing sytle is conversational and breezy.

I recently attended a family wedding in Eugene. The entire event was well planned then well executed. And a whole lotta fun! We’d received “save the date” cards months back so Tyler promptly made reservations and scored a great deal, (My daughter is a typically frugal Thompson). We met up at the hotel room, I was staying with her - a new situation sponging off my kid. I like it! Determined not to be late we were the first ones seated. Well, I was determined not be late. Tyler thought I was going overboard. My brother and his family slipped in next to us at the last minute. We’d been watching for them and were happy to have them show as they’re always fun, often entertainment in their own right. A collective jaw-drop when the mother of the bride, my cousin Cathy, was escorted down the aisle. She was absolutely stunning, wearing a lovely dress, her hair upswept. She’s been kick-boxing and it’s certainly paid off. Jees, I hope I look that good when I’m her age. In nine months time. The br...

perfume wafting by of sweet violets abloom teases me with spring