16

Another clear cold morning; the temperature's forecast to stay below freezing all day today and tomorrow, sunny and dry. So it will be a gorgeous day again, but brisk. From the window of the front office, we can see Mount St. Helens and - I think - the top of Mount Rainier behind her. The office buildings are too tall to the east to see Mount Hood. The sparrows swarm the fire escape on that side of the building, outside my window, feathers puffed against the cold, tearing the millet from the stalks. They're going to be upset when I'm away for a week.

Encore un matin clair et froid; les prévisions météo disent qu'il ne fera que -2°C aujourd'hui et demain, sans pluie et avec le soleil brillant. Donc il fera beau une fois de plus, mais on gèle. Nous pouvons voir, à travers la fenêtre dans la salle de la réceptionniste au bureau, Mont St. Helens et (je crois) le sommet de Mont Rainier en arrière. On ne peut pas voir Mont Hood vers l'est parce que les immeubles sont trop élévés. Du côté est on trouve l'escalier de secours grouillant de moineaux, leurs plumes toutes gonflées contre la froideur, avalent le millet. Ils se fâcheront car je serais absente pendent une semaine.

Cold/Hot

Actually 80 degrees is pretty pleasant, especially when one is only wearing a bathing suit and shorts. I'll take it. If you can't see the picture clearly, I suppose that's all for the best, as it's not polite to gloat. But I will be on the beach in two days, burying my toes in the warm sand, breathing in the fragrance of a million flowers. Off to the Big Island!

First, though, my final exam in French class, and a last-minute flurry of work from the lawyers, probably, and then of course the last-last-minute laundry and packing. I frequently am getting organized at 3am before heading out to the airport at 6am. But tonight, it's studying (though I feel relatively confident with my preparation for the test) and then to bed, to sleep, perchance to dream of warm-ripe papayas and frangipani leis and snorkeling ...

19

It's even colder this morning - 19 on the thermometer right now. Yesterday morning I walked in to town for church, and it wasn't frosty and seemed much warmer, but by the time church was over, the wind had shifted around and was screaming down from the north, and I was glad for my scarf and gloves.

There weren't too many people on street corners yesterday - probably fewer this morning. Too damn cold to be out asking for change. I hope people have enough blankets; I know the shelters fill up quickly, and so do the hostel rooms. And here I am, just out from underneath flannel sheets, two soft fuzzy blankets, one thin quilt and one thick down quilt, drinking hot coffee with the heater going full blast to warm up this attic room - and I get a hot shower in a bit. So, so fortunate. So thankful.

St Stephen's does a good bit for the homeless, with a chili dinner on Tuesdays and a pancake breakfast on Saturdays, and there are big boxes of hats and scarves in the choir room, waiting to be handed out. I haven't gotten my act together to make up my gloves-and-granola-bars winter handout packets but will do so when I get back from Hawaii. Yes, Hawaii! Only the second time I've gone. I'm really looking forward to it, and not just for the contrast with the local weather. There will be no posting while I'm gone; I'm sure there's internet access at the condos, but I'm not taking my laptop. I will take my camera, and plan to buy an underwater camera, too, just to see what happens. I think I'll take John's chicken cam as well and see if I can take videos. I finally downloaded the river trip from July and it's a bit wonky - I didn't attach the camera correctly to the kayak (though I thought I had) and as a result it's mostly trees and sky, and not much actual river. But I'll play with it and see what I can put up for your viewing pleasure, a memory of fun with Mom and John in the hot sun over Fourth of July weekend, when I forgot to put sunscreen on my legs and as a result got the worst sunburn I can remember ever getting. But good memories nonetheless.

Oh, right, I was talking about St Stephens: we're having a benefit concert on the 20th, and will be singing (quartets, full choir, and sing-along) Christmas works and carols from the 16th century onwards. It will be good, and for a good cause. Please join us at SW 13th and Clay on Sunday the 20th at 3pm for "A Sound of Angels" - suggested donation $10, and if you have any hats/scarves/gloves to donate, or cans for the food barrel, that would be much appreciated as well. And Mele Kalikimaka!

UPDATE: That's "em dash 19," not "19 below zero."

29.4

It was below freezing Friday night and Saturday morning, and I walked to the Broadway Medical Clinic with gloves on, huffing out white clouds of breath as I simultaneously navigated the slopes of Laurelhurst Park and chatted with my grandmother on the phone. The sun was brilliant, low in the sky, setting sparks in the ice crystals on the grass and leaves. The sage plant in the front yard was furred with frost.

So I'm immunized now, or at least have had the shot in the arm, though apparently it takes a few weeks before the body rallies totally. I've been lucky this season so far - other than some brief sinus and intestinal issues, nothing major. And I think those were due to allergies, anyway. I'm hoping this continues.

in summer wind-tossed
now immobile, silent, still
the rose is frozen

Go Ducks!

Flotsam

"Thou Thou" - a spambox poem.

Annoying like crickets guarding protecting
Thou Thou and all thy mates to keep
The king's daughter was delighted
What a dreadful scream
If for you bad mood to call to me!

Two well dressed Women one of whom said to us by
Like people years have slowly passed
And no forewarning gives
With thick black bars across it?

Make confession ask'd forgiveness
Was chasing mice.

And from my Horse I leapt great joy had I
A Being breathing thoughtful breath.

I read "Flotsametrics and the Floating World" a few weeks ago. The author, Curtis Ebbesmeyer, has spent much of his life tracking ocean currents, both surface and deep-sea, and uses flotsam and jetsam to do so, frequently. Remember the Nike shoes that appeared on the West coast a few years ago? He was following those. I was appalled to read how much of the cargo that's transported via ocean barge gets lost each year. All of the stuff we think we need, much of it lead-laced plastic crap assembled by low-paid workers overseas that will break quickly and be tossed into the trash, and may very well end up as part of the nonbiodegradable scrap heaps swirling in the ocean already. Are we animals, that we must foul our own nest? But it's a very interesting book, a mix of science and passion for the job, and a reminder of how interconnected everything is.

Battle Rock Beach, Port Orford

Thanksgiving

I am thankful for many things, not the least of which is a family who helps me blow-dry a turkey so I can take a picture of it for my blog. The blow-drying is to make sure the skin gets extra crispy when the turkey is roasted. And the skin was lovely and crisp, and the meat amazingly juicy after the three days of dry-brining with salt and pepper and paprika. But I think I used just a bit too much salt, perhaps - at least on the legs and thighs. I didn't have any of that meat, but Mom said it ended up very salty. Not so much that it was inedible, but on the high end of saltiness. Highly seasoned, you might say. The breast meat was perfect, though, to my taste, and absolutely dripping with juice, which for turkey breast after two and a half hours of roasting is practically unheard of. Mom's vetoing any future brining because of the saltiness, but it's firmly in my repertoire now.

I have the turkey carcass simmering downstairs in my new stock pot (thanks, Mom and John!) with the turkey neck, two heads of garlic, and a handful of dried bay leaves. In fact, I should probably go downstairs and turn off the heat, otherwise it won't cool down enough to refrigerate before I go to bed. Lots of driving this weekend, and the traffic going south was beyond hellish, and the roads were foggy. Coming north yesterday was much easier, and while I regret that I couldn't stay the extra day, it was nice to not fight everyone else on the road on a Sunday. The weather was marvelous most of the weekend, and the chickens were sunning themselves behind the strawberry patch.

Chickens in the yard, and three French hens in the new "Twelve Days of Christmas" puzzle that I'd brought. I don't remember when we started putting puzzles together at Thanksgiving, but we have a collection of at least half a dozen different Twelve Days puzzles, and this was a particularly pretty one. Relatively quick to assemble, even with 1,000 pieces, which was good because the last two years the puzzles have been too complicated to finish, and in fact last year I think we didn't even get the frame entirely assembled on a two-sided one that's really quite lovely, but I bought it on line, used, and I can't swear all the pieces are even there ... I'll have to try to put that one together myself this year, just to make sure.

The weather was nice enough that we had time for a walk on Thursday, though after all the talk of mountain lions and bears and bobcats (John shot a bobcat on their deck just last week) I caught myself eyeing the woods a bit nervously. Nothing jumped out at us, though, and we came back for roasted turkey and champagne, mashed potatoes and candied sweet potatoes, green salad and tomato-fennel salad and cranberry relish with Meyer lemon and brussels sprouts shredded and sauteed with almonds and parmesan cheese. And a gluten-free cherry pie for dessert - though I had mine for breakfast, instead.

Thanksgiving.

Preparation For The Feast

Busy week last week, scatterbrained and errand-filled weekend, laundry, French exam and upcoming class presentation: no blogging this week.

With slightly frazzled joy and eternal gratitude to the Universe, a happy Thanksgiving to you all. Don't forget to wait thirty minutes before carving the turkey. I'm assured it makes all the difference.