Out the front window, the first round of blooms on therhododendron are already fading. Iris blossoms hang wilted. The harbingers ofspring. The sky has been a high-blue fordays. The maple leaves flicker in the chill- breeze. For the most part, it does not reach the rocker on the porch.When it pauses, the air warms quickly, heating…
Empty The wind was blowing as the day began, gusts that rattled the leaves left over from last fall and rolled them from under the bushes. The sky was clear blue, empty, for a while, until clouds started scudding in. Soon it was a gray-white ceiling that felt .. empty. The weather was cold, with…
In the half light of almost dawn, rain spattered on the pavement, rhododendron leaves shivered under the impact of heavy drops, quietly. No bird song. The steady background thrum of rain on leaves and sidewalk. Dark grey clouds over the eastern mountains split and revealed a just -rising sun, transforming dawn to day. A silent…
The sky is dark grey nearly every day now. Through the empty tree branches occasional black clouds slurry patches of heavy rain. Winter is settling in, requiring books, and fires, and steaming cups and bowls by fires or under duvets on the couch. It’s a time for togetherness and being alone, for regrets and reminiscences,…
One of the first pieces I wrote was about my father and I going off to work on a winter morning. It was bitterly cold. I was off to deliver papers and dad was walking to work. My father was walking because one of our cars was in the shop and he wanted to leave…
We are moving slowly as time and health allow. Rest and naps take priority and often happen on the spur of the moment. We do not have a timeline for finishing the move. I’m not sure we have a definition of what finishing looks like. Someone said that packing boxes become furniture after a time.…
Breathing Interrupted It has been a few days since we got the furniture delivered, and the unpacking of boxes begun as part of stage three of the move. The move was a real test of our energy levels, so we had to back off and work more slowly. Even so our energy dwindled. A “canned”…
Summer heat arrived without much introduction. Like getting old, it just showed up and stayed. The humidity came with it, so even the shade is hot. We’d been “in between” for a few weeks…moved out of our old house and living in an apartment until the new house is ready…when all of a sudden: “when…
In between. We are in between things right now – to use the vernacular. We’ve moved out of our home for the last 30 some years and are squatting in an apartment while we wait for our new home to be finished. We should be ready to move in about 6 weeks. We’ve moved in…
I’m a grandfather. With two kids, four grandkids and fifteen years teaching in middle school, where women outnumber men 6 to 1, I know about pregnancy and how it changes diet and behavior. It’s a lot like getting old. I stop walking in the store to catch my breath, people give me the “bless your…
A high, thin layer of cloud backlit by sun. Cherry, dogwood, magnolia blooming. Summer sneaking in behind a mild spring. Children playing after supper time, a sure sign of a new season. Summer. The old house is nearly ready for the move next Monday. Lyd is gone for hours at a time finishing the sorting…
We had not had rain for two days. Yesterday the sky was starkly blue. Today it is a high, pale gray. And then it lowered and began to rain persistently. A week ago, the sky was pouring, the backyard a small lake beneath the pine. It is spring in Oregon and the weather a daily…
Growing up, my parents had a big cedar trunk at the foot of their bed. It was originally my mom’s hope chest. It was always at the foot of the bed, no matter where we lived. It was not opened often, normally in the early fall when my mother brought out our winter clothes, mostly…
It was a cold, pure day. No clouds, just a high pale blue dome and a brilliant sun in it. The winter drear traded for the sharp bright relief of a false spring. We were going to the beach. It was our first “just for the heck of it” trip since before the pandemic. Our…
It has been raining daily. Rain is the norm for January. Little piles of leaves, raked by my neighbors, locate the drain at the end of the drive. Neighbors do this without being asked and because it is the right thing to do. We say hi or how are you when we see each other.…
It has been raining for days. Red and yellow leaves that tumbled across the yard before, are now brown, soggy patches of sepia, like old pictures from my parents’ photo album. Fall has given way to the long, grey days of winter in the West. I have always looked forward to fall. In Wyoming fall…
It began raining yesterday morning, a light mist that became an easy rain, just enough to keep the walks wet without forming puddles. It continued into the night, making sleep easy. We’ve had company from Colorado, my sister and her husband Carl. He was a longtime friend of Lydia’s before he married Lora. They came…
A new conversation It was almost too warm to sleep last night. The house would not cool off before the day began to heat. It has been that way since we got back from Seattle last week. It didn’t help that we both became ill shortly after returning. Lydia had leg cramps and nausea. I…
I opened the house when I got up, the doors and screened windows, to let in cooler air before we button up against the heat of the day. This morning the cool air drifting in has a vague smell of fall somehow. The night was cooler than most lately. Sleep was becoming easier; a prelude…
Back in the saddle again It was dark when I got up. I’d been awake for an hour or so. Sleep wouldn’t return. As I put the water on for coffee, I could hear crows making a ruckus in the pine across the street. No other birds this morning. The window above the sink was…
Re-creation I’m stumbling over starting to write again. Can’t seem to gather the whole thought, or even enough to work out the rest through writing. Oh, I’ve started several posts, but they don’t go anywhere; I can’t get a resolution to what I’m trying to say. I’m not even sure that I know what I…
Common Ground I grew up a long way from here, my home. For 17 years, I lived on the edge of the prairie near the shadow of a mountain. It was an innocent life. I was naïve and unaware. That was okay. I had a few friends, but I could put names to faces of…
Slumgullion It is still dark out the window, though there is a hint of light. The apple tree limbs are subtle leafless streaks and beyond it the walk is a vague wash of grey. No birds. No rain. In our house, slumgullion is a mix of bacon bits, fried potatoes, and onions, cooked together in…
The Great Divide Gray light this morning. Fog and winter sun. Always an inducement for contemplation. We continue to sort through boxes of old papers and mementos, making little decisions about what to throw out and what to keep. In an emotional compromise, Lydia has begun taking pictures of items we are unsure of. Later,…
The only sounds are of the occasional car passing as a neighbor heads off to work and the clicking of a clock here in the house. The gray days of winter in Oregon have started to settle in, but not the constant rains, yet. It has slowly become light out the window, but light only.…
It has been a gray day. On and off drizzle. A slight breeze keeps it chilly outside. The garage is uninsulated. The rain is louder here. Our breath is vague clouds. Earlier, Darci, our daughter-in-law, came over to help with the sorting. She is fearless, climbing the bent, rickety ladder without hesitation. My only contribution…
Lights glow from windows up and down the block. It is still dark, but kids are getting ready for school, parents for work. Oatmeal is on the stove, or boxes of cereal at the table. Toast in the toaster. It is a Monday. We are retired, so it is just another day. Days blend together…
The sky has a white glow; the sun is nearly set. In Scotland it is called the gloaming. Kids running in the grass square that sits in the middle of the camp sites. Some are on swings, a few play catch, the rest chase each other or play games whose rules evolve constantly as imagination…
Once again we are at the coast, avoiding the scorching heat of the valley. The worst of the heat should be done by the time we head home on Friday. The weather here is clear and mild, the sky a high, pale blue. Jays have been hopping around the camp pecking for food, making an awful squawk. It…
The sky is a perfect blue this morning. A breeze ruffles my curtains, keeping off the heat that will develop later today. It is going to be our first hot day of the summer according to the weather forecast. A sudden change from the rainy, gloomy days of the past week. The weather an objective…
The window over the sink was still open from last night. I could smell the spring air as I made my way through the kitchen in the dark, heading for the light switch and coffee pot. The air felt warm, a good sign for my tomato starts and young pole bean plants. Spring has been…
It is daylight, nearly 7:00 AM. The garbage truck has banged its way up and down the street, leaving containers tossed along the curb, or nearly into the middle of the street. It is Thursday morning. On Tuesday, Lydia had tea here with Darci, our daughter-in-law, and Gabby, our new granddaughter. It was reminiscent of…
A storm is coming in off the ocean. I heard the first gust about 4:30 as it bounced the bus slightly. Since then, the wind has become a steady background that I only notice if I stop and pay attention, or if it stops. It is a bit like breathing, only noticed if focused on,…
Monday and it is finally daylight. It just looks like a winter day out the window. There is a half-light greyness about and a stillness as though the world is reluctant to stir, to face another day of pandemic and riots and hard choices. I have been up since 3:00, easing into the day with…
It is late afternoon a few days after Christmas. The pale gray sky is rapidly dimming. It is cold out and damp. It will freeze tonight, lightly. Not enough moisture to make ice or snow. I have some fish marinating, tomatoes sliced, and some garlic asparagus ready to broil. It is late at night, end…
A Gentler Waiting Daylight is slowly changing the window to a pale grey. There is a cold fog looming which seems to dampen the usual noise of morning. Even the garbage trucks an hour ago seemed muted. I had a long sleepless night, finally catching some rest between 3 and 5. Then I was awake.…
It has been five days since we returned from New Orleans. Five days of quarantine other than a contactless pick up of groceries and a trip to the doctor because of a swollen foot (I feel like that chubby Victorian guy in every Victorian novel suffering from gout). For the past two days, Lydia has…
I do not pick when I write. I write when time allows and I have ideas I want to put on paper. Just now is an example. Most often I write in the early morning when it is quiet and I have had a chance to think about my ideas. Lydia is napping. It is…
Last night was like so many other recent nights; after sleeping for an hour or two, I woke up. I tried my usual remedies: I went to the bathroom, I took a melatonin, I tried two peanut butter cookies and a small glass of port. I read my Kindle. I read a post from an…
It has been raining solidly for three days now, but this morning it is quiet outside. Our winter rains do that…dump for a few days, catch their breath, then dump again. I’ve been laid up with a swollen knee so haven’t been out to clear the leaves from the gutter in front of the house.…
It was very still when I woke up. Still and dark. Now, two hours later, there is the vague tic of light rain on the roof. It feels like it will rain harder as the day progresses. It is our last day here at the Oregon coast. We will get ready for travel this afternoon,…
It was dark outside when I heard the rain begin. I was reading in the dim pool of a lantern at the table. Lydia was sleeping. We are at the coast today. This is the first time we have been out in Atticus since the Pendleton Round Up trip 14 months ago. Between severe health…
There is a dense fog advisory this morning and, between the fog and the late rising sun of autumn, 7:00 still looks dark. I’ve not heard any birds yet, though in the past week they have been busy getting drunk on the orange berries in the tree across the street. A final avian party before…
Here’s how my life works: I’ve been grumpy lately; some might say grumpier. My birthday was coming, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge being 70, much less being that old. Lydia has been getting rid of piles and boxes of oddments collected over the years. Tossing old, useless bits of cards, posters, and…
The sky is a high, pale blue this afternoon. A slight breeze takes the sting out of the ninety-degree heat. A few thin shadows of clouds hover around the horizon, barely visible. Time got away from me after I started the pandemic journal. My focus narrowed. My concern became my family and their…
Read more The Old Yeller Dog Come Trotting Through the Meeting House
The garbage truck is slowly making its noisy way back down the other side of the street. The plastic cans don’t make the same racket that the old 50 gallon barrels of my childhood did; even then the trucks came up the alley, not the street. Alleys were the domain of us kids then. We…
The light was slow in coming this morning and there was no birdsong. I knew it was going to be cloudy, somber, and grey. The signs were there, and when it finally arrived, the light was dim and vague, lacking an obvious source. Grey skies in Oregon always seem to carry an atmosphere of contemplation…
I wandered into the dark kitchen at 3 AM. Automatically, I pushed the button on the pot to start coffee, before I turned on the light over the sink. On the stove was a cast iron deep, fry pan. A dishtowel was draped over it, and the towel swelled upward pregnantly. I had started…
The cheery blossoms outside the bedroom window are distinctly white in the vague, grey light. It is daylight, but the sun has not come over the Cascades to the east yet. I have my coffee, a good mystery, and a fever. I’ve just finished a breakfast of ham, scrambled eggs and fresh cornbread. Lyd is…
Breathing I miss our daily newspaper. Like many people, I suspect, I had not foreseen that the internet would see the end of local print. We quit taking the paper when it got down to only a few pages and the delivery service became sporadic at best. It was not a pleasant end, rather like…
The onset of winter brings on meditation, reflection. Time to consider and evaluate. A state of mind not an event.
A reminiscence of a summer job at The Journal in Portland, before the digital age. The nostalgia of working with lead ingots for the linotype connects the author with his friend Carl. The physical demands of the job and the fond memories shared with older friends highlight a proud era before newspapers became part of the past.
High, murky grey sky. The sun a weak spot of light in the dark grey sky. Rhododendrons in red and salmon are colorized spots in an otherwise dull landscape. An old picture brought to life. It is vaguely dreary. It is a good day to clean the freezer. I’m not a hoarder, though I do…
The morning was clear, crisp, and white. Unusual for rain sodden Oregon in January. It was too cold to actually snow; rather, a fine, almost invisible, mist of ice particles drifted like fog. The ground was getting whiter, a blinding glare that seemed to absorb sound. A cold white silence. Age adds layers of experience.…
barelyaboomer 