While at the playground, I had been arguing with my little Texan niece about whether Oregon was better than Texas. She stuck to her guns and insisted that you don’t mess with Texas, and to prove her point she banged out a rep of pullups.
Pretty impressive, I’ll give her that.
The first step to raising young is to stake out your territory and find a mate. Male red-wings get an early start, both in the time of the year and the time of day. Even before winter has yielded to spring, the males at Ridgefield can be seen singing from the cattails in all kinds of weather. Arrive at sunrise when the refuge opens and the males will already be up to greet you in song.
These images were taken a week apart during May, one on a sunny morning and the other on a cloudy morning, I like both for different reasons.
This was a low key weekend for me.
The previous ten days were exhausting, after getting back from a short vacation I had a week and a half of nearly non-stop work, including long hours on the weekend and one all-nighter.
To recover, I didn’t do anything this weekend that required much thinking. On Saturday after dropping my wife off at Union Station for her train ride, I went home and sat down for a while. I woke up a few hours later when the phone rang and she let me know she had arrived safely.
Little Sam then crawled up into my lap and zonked out for while. I watched the US Open on TV, probably the first time in my life I’ve watched golf. My step-father really enjoyed golf and I was reminded of the time he took me around his golf course and answered my many questions, in a way it seemed like we were watching it together. Tiger was playing hurt but also playing out of his mind and I have to say I quite enjoyed it.
I eventually dislodged my little kitten so I could have an early dinner and then work in the yard for a while. Today was equally ambitious, more yardwork and more golf on TV, and then I let the little ones outside.
Emma and Scout are similar in that they don’t like lots of noise and didn’t want to stay out long, while Sam is like Templeton in that he just loves being out there. It’s impossible not to think of our departed gray cat while I’m out there with the other cats, but it was comforting seeing our little orange kitten having so much fun, he even rolls around on the concrete like Templeton used to.
Sam is starting to learn the rules of Outside Time, he actually came running to the door when I clapped my hands and he realized it was time to go in. He didn’t try any escape attempts so I felt comfortable enough to grab the camera and take some pictures. He likes to crouch down and chase the other cats — another of Templeton’s traits — so I wanted to capture the little hunter. I leaned over to put the camera just above the grass to give the feel of a lion in Africa peeking out from the tall savannah grass.
I was going to mow the yard late in the day but things had quieted down and Emma wanted to come back out so I let the two of them play instead. I eventually brought them inside so I could have some dinner and watch the end of the basketball game.
A perfectly relaxing weekend, but it’s going to be hard to get up to go to work tomorrow.
Cough cough. Whoa, is that botulism coming on? Perhaps I’d better call in sick …
A picture of my wife watching the sun set from four years ago, taken on Nye Beach in Newport, Oregon.
We were staying in our favorite hotel, the Sylvia Beach Hotel, as we like the peace and quiet. It sits right on the beach, so we took a short walk from our hotel room and walked down the beach to an area where we could be off on our own.
And now I’m suddenly craving the seafood chowder at Sharky’s down by the harbor, which is only a problem in that I’m not down by the harbor but back in my house in Portland.
We’re having a nice quiet Christmas this year. I’ve been alternating between spending time with our new cats Sam and Emma (Sam is currently curled up and sleeping on my legs and Emma is sleeping beside me) and Scout, who is feeling a bit unsure of the situation but played quite a bit with me and a ribbon from one of the Christmas presents.
This picture was taken in Charleston, South Carolina last December. It’s not composed all that well, but I wasn’t composed all that well when I took it — I had just flown in from Portland the previous evening and earlier that day the doctors had told us that my stepfather Dan was not responding to the treatments like they hoped, that they would wait a few more days but then we’d have to make the decision on whether or not to remove him from the ventilator.
Visiting hours had ended so we walked around the old neighborhoods of Charleston for a while. My mom called our relatives and friends with the sad news while we walked. It was a surreal experience, one of those times where you don’t know if going into the city was the right thing to do but I felt that a little beauty at that time would be welcome.
The old houses were painted in a variety of colors and festively decorated for the holidays. Even a house being restored, completely covered in black cloth, had a holiday wreath above a doorway. There we walked along these streets, the beauty of the nicely maintained and restored old houses, the decay of old structures, the celebration of this joyous holiday, and our own personal sorrow.
My stepfather passed away two days later when his weakened lungs just couldn’t breathe anymore.
December will always be a time of mixed emotions, when we mourn his loss, but also celebrate the good times — how the family rallied together in such difficult hours, the many good memories of his life, the lessons that he taught us.
The family reunited this December for my grandmother’s funeral and were able to honor her 97 years of life. For my wife and I, December also brought the loss of our cat Templeton. While we miss our little one and how much he loved to play in the wrapping paper after the presents were opened, we’re thankful for the two new little ones who’ve come to join our lives, and for Scout who makes the transition with us.
Christmas is a celebration of the ultimate gift of hope, of joy and love found in unexpected places. And even if a far less momentous gift than that of the Christ child, these two kittens curled up with me are a reminder that Templeton’s passing at the end of his long and wonderful life provides us with the opportunity to give a second chance at life to these little purr machines and look forward to the days ahead.