must be something in the air
Last week will stand out on its own.
It rained all week long, the mercury barely making it up to 70 degrees. Sighing, I put on my sweater (which is begging to be put in the back of the closet, but has not yet made it there) in mid-July. We had one excruciating week of summer, and now this?
Harry Potter came out.
Our four newly-planted aspen trees died.
Numerous large bugs made their way into our house. In particular, a silverfish. And a spider spinning an impressive 36" web in my living room.
Laura had a baby boy. Elijah Jackson. He has curly hair, which is fitting.
A series of heavy phone calls from Virginia. You always hear stories about extended family - to the point that you can't even believe the individuals are from the same bloodline as you. But then - when it shifts and decides to hit your own generation…..and could just as easily have been you….I don't know. It's sobering.
Discovered a lot of new music.
A case of mistaken identity on 66th & Fremont left me shaken and paranoid. Note to Self: do not approach strange cars when you're exhausted and alone.
My alcoholic neighbor (whom I have only seen once in the two years that we've lived in our home) yelled at me from inside her kitchen window. Having really been through it that day, I lashed right back at her, the crazy girl on the street apparently yelling at no one. I stormed inside, stood in front of my own kitchen window and stared daggers at her house. Battle Of The Housewives, each of us gripping our respective porcelain sinks. Eventually I had to come to my senses, suck it up, and go across the street to both introduce myself and apologize. She did not accept this graciously.
Maybe this week will be better?
All in a day's work
I was somewhat entrepreneurial in elementary school. Almost embarrassingly so - sort of like those small children you periodically see around who somehow look like adults - and you look away from them, whispering to the nearest bystander, "Doesn't that baby have an old face?"
In third grade, I started The Fun Club with my best friend Joe, his sister Mary, and our friend Joshua. The purpose of The Fun Club was to have fun on the thirty minute bus ride home from school, and to collect dues because that's what clubs do. We even had business cards: Jessica Baratta - Fun Club President. To us, "fun" seemed to mean counting the number of people that would wave to us on the school bus. We would indicate every wave on a notebook organized by day, week, and month. This also entailed us waving consistently for thirty minutes, and after a point we decided that we simply could not physically do this anymore. I borrowed my mom's metronome, and Mary came up with a plastic hand on a keychain. We bored a whole in the base of the hand, and set it on the metronome - highly intending it to then be a mechanical waving hand, thus saving us the bother of waving ourselves. It didn't work - the weight distribution was uneven. As the president, I was also in charge of keeping the dues. At last count in 1989, we had $14.10. But I somehow lost it, and feel very guilty about that to this day.
In fourth grade, I went to the Red Cross Summer Babysitting program, and earned my official certificate that read: "Jessica Baratta Has Been Officially Trained as a Red Cross Certified Babysitter". I kept this in my desk drawer, so proud of it. I made up business cards (again) on stock paper, and slipped them in my rural neighbors' mailboxes with high hopes of starting my own version of The Babysitter's Club. A few weeks later, I had a friend named Jennifer over for the afternoon. We got into an argument of some sort, and she locked herself in my bedroom for two hours. I was running around the house, trying to figure out if I could somehow break into my own room from the outside, and through the window - I saw her scavenging around my desk drawer. When her mother finally came to pick her up (and thus end our friendship), I found that she had taken my Official Babysitter certificate, scratched out "Red Cross Certified Babysitter", and instead had written "Big Nerd". I hated her for this. In fact, I still do - except I hear that she's now a missionary in Guam. And you're not really allowed to hate a missionary.
In fifth grade, I started a newspaper for our class: "Sportz 'n Stuff". I hate the title so much, even now. The cutesy 'z' in place of an 's'. The casually abbreviated 'n'. The subtle hint of alliteration. "Sportz 'n Stuff" covered the 1992 Olympics, the Mazda Miata, and Michael Jordan. Because we went to a Christian school, I also had something called a "Crypto-verse" in along with the crossword puzzle and word scramble. This "Crypto-verse" was based on something I used to do with dad: the letters are scrambled up, and each letter is "assigned" a different letter. However, there is no pattern to this. Just because "A" relates to the letter "S", that does not mean that "B" will be "T". No. You have to figure it out by using the most common letters used in the English Language (A,S,I,N,T,O,E,R), and then utilize context clues. This was way too much for 11 year olds to tackle. But what's odd to me now, is the verses that I would select to use. There was nothing in there about the Lilies of the Field, or the Sparrows being fed. None of this lambs will sleep with lions, Noah built an ark stuff. Heck no. The first verse I used was "Weeping may last for the evening, but joy comes in the morning". The second verse I used was "The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves those who have a crushed spirit." These aren't as terrible as others that I could have chosen - but geez. I want to tell that little girl to lighten up.
have mercy
Welcome back home. The whole summer lay before us, heat waves distorting our intentions of camping, hiking, rafting, and exploring. We see a house that needs to be repainted (for the second summer in a row. Note: don't buy paint from Sherwin Williams), a lawn that needs to be replaced, and withering ferns that need relief.
It's been over a hundred degrees here the past few days. Wimpy Portlanders can't handle that kinda heat. Montana has decided to only stay in the basement, where it's cool. He sprawls out on the concrete floor and looks at us accusingly, as if we've had something to do with making the house hotter than hades. The thermostat in the living room says 88 degrees.
Wearily,
Jessica
hither and yon
it's been a month full of travelling. 30,000 feet - i don't know if i'm as scared of you as i used to be. take that.
too much to write, so we'll go with my favorite literary device: sentence fragments.
hawaii: swam with sea turtles. saw flowing red lava on a distant hillside. slept on a volcano and woke up to earthquakes. black sand beaches. greying coral reefs paying the price of tourism. hiked over lava fields only to retreat in a thunder storm both idyllic and sinister.
it's hard to see, but that little bit of red is the current lava flow.
michigan: midwestern. familiar stores once forgotten. farm roads every mile on the east west grid. reminded me of ohio - which brings its own brand of melancholy.
washington: five hours through high desert roads (deserted post-midnight) towards wenatchee - where life is based upon the cherry harvest, blm land is open to roam, and the full moon highlights the canyons.
colorado: at present. weathered rocks. startled by a black bear outside my window on sunday evening. the altitude seems to be taking its toll (or at least, i'm conveniently blaming my lack of energy on that). subalpine creekfed lakes so full of trout i almost caught one with my hands. fell asleep in the sparse grass beside fern lake and dreamt in a mediocre manner - woke up to the red-winged blackbird, surprised to find myself surrounded with the stony rock faces of the front range. tomorrow brings rafting on the poudre and we're counting on doing thunder lake on thursday.
