Listmania

Some years ago my younger brother and his son were using their new label maker in an effort to enhance their home organization. They made labels for sporting goods, pet paraphernalia, and cleaning supplies. In a moment of brilliance, my brother printed and applied a label that read, "Label Maker".

In that same spirit I proudly announce the first item on my to-do list for today: "Make List".

I got quite a bit done yesterday, despite Sally's absence, including watering the garden and the raspberry patch, tasks Sally normally assumes with joy. The major items on my list for today are lawn mowing and continuing tile work. Sally and I laid 41 tiles during our first session Sunday. The new tiles, combined with the fresh paint and light fixtures also added over the weekend, give us the sense that we are making progress. I won't know if we have indeed progressed until I check my list....

Time On My Hands

I'm doing OK, but the dogs seem depressed.

Sally left this afternoon for a week of meetings in the Tri-Cities (Kennewick, Richland, and Pasco, for those not of the Washington persuasion). She will get to have dinner with Megan tonight, and will be kept busy by the meeting schedule. I, on the other hand, am faced with a week of time on my hands.

It has never seemed strange to me that many widowed men also die within a year of their spouse's death. I don't do all that well alone. Part of that is explained by my Myers-Briggs Personality Type: I draw energy from contact with others, and from the opportunity to formulate my thoughts by putting them into words.

Another part of my malaise is explained less by personality type than personality disorder. I find considerable comfort in a degree of personal routine. I rather like getting up at the same time each day, fixing coffee and oatmeal, and reading the paper after getting Sally off to work. It generally isn't long after she leaves that I begin framing my day's activity based on what I'll do before she gets home. I have tried to do the same thing when she's out of town, but can't seem to make the translation.

Along the way I have found a couple practices that help me fill the time and keep me from lapsing into total lethargy. One is making lists (the "C" expression of my OCPD tendencies). I like to make lists of things I intend to do, but also lists of things I have accomplished. I find the latter especially helpful in reassuring myself that I haven't totally wasted my time.

Another helpful practice I've discovered is blogging, which though a poor substitute for a good conversation with Sally, still allows me to formulate my thoughts by getting them into words.

My blog has suffered in past weeks from our focus on the kitchen (more about that later). So too my biking, which had attained compulsion status before I became a home remodeler. I intend to post several times over the next few days, and to get a ride in. This seems like a list in the making.

I feel better already.

Blue Monday

This weekend brought press releases stating that the Obama administration was willing to take a public health insurance option off the table in order to achieve other necessary reforms. As a strong advocate of a single-payer, public plan, I take this news to heart. This is the first time I have felt that my strong support for Obama may have been ill-conceived. Oh, true, there really wasn't much of a choice in 2008, and at least the current administration will make different mistakes than its predecessor, but I had hoped for more. The health insurance issue is providing us with a telling indication of the balance of power between those advocating the public good and those representing the power of the corporate few. As has been the case so often in recent years, the rich and powerful have effectively used talk radio and FOX News to manipulate a large segment of our society into doing their bidding.

In other news, CNN reports that 57% of those polled do not believe the stimulus plan is working. However, CNN does not report what percentage of those polled can spell "economics".

August Update

I feel badly that I haven't been writing much. I hate to deny the world access to my deepest inner thoughts. It just isn't fair, I realize.

Our trip to Reno and the ensuing debacles (the skunk episode and Sally's week-long excursion through central Washington) left both of us drained. We did have a nice weekend, and are getting back into gear. On Sunday we laid down a new layer of plywood subflooring, which readies us to install the cement backerboard and then the tile.

Thanks to Erin we learned about an INCREDIBLE product, Tecnu (weblink here), which utterly removed the skunk smell from the dogs' fur. The only remnants of odor are on their faces where we were reluctant to use the product. If you didn't know we'd been skunked, you wouldn't notice the odor in the house at all. Tecnu is sold at Winco Foods, and is in the section with sunburn and insect bite treatments.

In retrospect, Crater Lake and the Lava Beds National Monument were really worth seeing. You have to get off of the interstate to see them, but we're glad we did.

The apricots are ripe on one of the family trees, and are getting ripe on the others. We seem to have a good crop of plums, pears and apples, so this late summer will feature lots of canning and juicing in the kitchen, assuming I quit sitting at this computer and get on with remodeling!

Qvick! Ruunnnn!

So, in the ongoing effort to be a responsible human companion to our four-legged friends, I was out on a walk. The weather website showed some thunderstorm activity northeast of Spokane that showed signs of moving southwest (as if that ever happens). I thought there was plenty of time, especially given the limits Cayenne's hips place on our activities.

The sky was lovely and interesting, especially when I neared the intersection of 35th and Altamont, the far reaches of our excursion. It was then that I noticed the significant movement of the clouds moving from northeast to southwest (as if that ever happens). Given Cayenne's condition, I couldn't really push the pace (you can't teach pace), but no worries. Just as we turned down Crestline from 35th toward home, I noticed large, dark spots on the pavement. Thinking they might be frogs, I paused momentarily. I then heard the first THWACK of rain/hail.

Doing my best Jürgen Prochnow impersonation from Dune, I shouted encouragement to the dogs as I broke into a run: "Qvick! Ruunnnn!" The dogs immediately made the connection, and began sniffing for giant sandworms in Bill and Cis' yard.

I wasn't really that worried about melting or anything, and there was no lightning, of which I am famously afraid. It was the laundry on the line. Today was the last good day to dry, and I had washed the dog pillow covers in an effort (mostly vain) to remove the skunk smell. The pillows themselves were lying exposed on the deck where they had soaked up the sunshine. Towels, socks and underwear were carefully spaced on the opposite side of the umbrella clothesline. I had to save the laundry!

"Qvick! Ruunnnn!"

The dogs gave up looking for sandworms, and began searching for the Kwisatz Haderach.

Eventually I got everyone into the back yard. The cat, alarmed either by the storm or my broken English, followed us in. The laundry was saved, and everyone made it safely in just as.... it stopped raining.

This wouldn't be happening to me if I had a houssse-keeperr.

Now, as I post this, the storm has come. Cue the electric guitars. Let the Fremen dance.

A Season of Contradictions

These high summer days present us with one of time's contradictions. On the one hand, August tells time in its unique, slow fashion. The fruit ripens slowly, the lawn needs water every few days, and to be mowed on occasion. It all seems to unfold slowly, as if the whole world is avoiding breaking into a sweat. Even the sky is lazy.

On the other hand, I am conscious of the quickened shortening of daylight, and the rapid turn of pages on the calendar. Summer, so long-awaited, is already waning. Even the 90 degree heat can't keep me from shuddering as I contemplate last winter's snows, and the possibility of their return.

I should endeavor to enjoy as much summer as I can crowd into my moments. I'll start on that as soon as I finish this glass of tea, and maybe take a nap.

Things You Don't Want to Hear....

There are some words and phrases you just don't want to hear.

• In relationships: "I've met someone." "It's not you, it's me." "We need to talk."
• From the physician: "We can't be sure...we'll order some more tests."
• From the insurance company: "That isn't covered."

I'm sure you can add your own set of least favorites to this brief list, some more serious than others. I can now add another category and phrase as well. You hate to get a call from the pet sitter saying, "I think the skunk is somewhere in the house."

Sally and I just returned from a whirlwind visit with her aunt in Reno. In a week we covered 2,000 miles, a National Park, a National Monument, 2 days with Sally's aunt, 2 days with Erin in Corvallis, and bookend visits with Megan in Kennewick as we came and went. As we began the last leg of the journey, we left a message with the pet sitter to inform him that we would be home a few hours earlier than expected. The pet sitter returned our call, saying that he had hoped to get the house aired out more before we returned, and that the odor was so strong he was concerned that the skunk might actually be in the house....

The next couple hours were filled with all sorts of mental images, speculations, and honest questions. Just who do you call to remove a skunk from your house?

We arrived back home prepared for the worst. In that sense, our pet sitter's warning accomplished its goal. Given that we feared we might be living out our own version of When Animals Strike!, we were relieved that there was no sign that a skunk had taken up residence with us. Cayenne, on the other hand, is quite odoriferous, as is anything and everything she has laid on, brushed against, or looked at.

This isn't the way we hoped the vacation would end. Sally also received word that her boss broke his collarbone over the weekend, and that she needed to cover the series of statewide meetings he had slated for this week. So we did laundry late last night, repacked her suitcase this morning, and hustled her off to central Washington.

For years we have preached that the worst times make the best stories. We will survive to tell the tales of the past week, and they will be humorous and entertaining. In the immortal words of countless kids on vacation, "Are we there yet?"