girl at large

Anticipation Is Exhausting

Stella was soooo looking forward to the wedding, and then, three minutes into the ceremony, completely konked out.

A Broad Abroad

Mom's in Greece!

In Touch

Check out Mom's new blog!

Bachelor Aid

Tom adjusts to the new location of 'his spot'. Ruby stands guard.

Before

After

Tom's new place is great, big and light and roomy. All the family pitched in to send him furnishings--from Grandpa's prints to Mom's rug to John and Molly's redo of the chairs to Aunt Peg's couch, table and bed. He worked on Friday, so I spent most of the day cleaning, organizing and arranging furniture...sounds so familiar. Was I on a break or still at work? I have a problem--even 1000 miles away, I still want to put things in their right place.

Favorite conversation with my brother (aside from The Lightbulb Story):
Tom: sniff, sniff "Did you wash my sheets or something?"
Me: "Yes, I washed your sheets, the toss pillows covers..even your duvet cover."
Tom: "You can wash those?"

Did we not grow up the same house? At least I was spared the Easy Mac--he had that for lunch when I was out enjoying my time in LA...by visiting a furniture factory.

Next Time I'll Pack a PB&J.

There's nothing quite like hitting the open road with your dog--sun in your face, wind in your hair...
steering wheel gripped with your knees as you struggle at 65 curvy miles per hour to open a jar of peanut butter so your dog can lick it off your fingers when climbing through the pass at 4000 ft elevation so she won't whine about the discomfort in her ears she doesn't understand but knows she doesn't like...holding the jar with your thighs, flinging the lid on the floor where it lands sticky-side down, then holding the wheel with one hand as you contort your other hand--wiggling a peanut butter-gobbed finger behind the seat at the general direction of the back seat where the only other passenger is looking back at you in the rear view mirror like the crazy woman that you are.

California Is A Loooong State.

Favorite government-issue exit sign, near Stockton: "Rough and Ready Island"

Road Trip

I'm heading back to Oregon later today...been in sunny, smoggy Los Angeles for a long weekend with brother Tom. Managed to fit in a few factory and showroom visits too, so it's a working, write-off weekend. But it's been relaxing as well. Lunch with friends and their new gorgeous baby girl Violet (can a baby ever be old?) in Santa Monica, downtime with Tom's friend Devon.

I never get too far from work--there's email, the cell phone my boss made me take (though they didn't call, good for them!), and of course, one full day cleaning, organizing and rearranging my brothers new loft. It's a great place, comfortable with an interesting city view over the Staples Center. Ruby is terrified of the elevator and the stone-floored lobby, and check in later for an entry on Ruby vs. Roomba.

I'm off again in a bit, putting the little Jetta to the test on the I-5 (whew, she's dirrrrrrteee!)

Vegas Baby

Last week, I went to Las Vegas at the last minute to attend two days of the World Market Home Furnishings Trade Show. I went to Vegas, with my boss, to work. Contain your excitement on my behalf. We stayed at the Luxor, said to be visible from space. The Great Wall, the Amazon and ...The Luxor--what a planet.

In short, my impression of Vegas is summed up in this story:

One evening, walking back to the hotel from dinner, enjoying natural air and a moment devoid of casino-din, my boss said to me: "Wow, look up at that moon!"

It was full; perfectly round and full and glowing with celestial beauty.

My reply, with a tone of intense disgust: "Which hotel did THAT?"

dog day road trip

at last

Look Ruby,....sunshine!

sunshine and snow

Went down to Ashland and over to Crater Lake during my "weekend"; crazy gorgeous.

Coasting

When did Alone become a dirty word?

Checking in with seaside community rental/condo manager: "T'aw, just you? That's too bad!"

Excuse me?

Checking out at Safe Way, explaining that I don't need a discount card because I'm just visiting the area, and no, not visiting friends, just the area: "Really? By yourself? T'aw."

Is this a conspiracy?

This happens everytime I travel alone, even for just a 'weekend' getaway across county lines. And the worst part? It's from WOMEN. Only women. Men never ask, never comment, never "T'aw" (imagine sad puppy face).

I beg you, ladies, remember that we can be independent. We can travel alone. We can work, we can have mortgages, degrees, car loans, we can vote...and for crying out loud, we can drive a car by ourselves to a hotel and Enjoy Time With Ourselves!

p.s. What really bugs me is this....It never crossed my mind, not once, to be disappointed that I was alone for my getaway. I was thrilled. Driving curving, misty roads in my beloved little car, iPod loaded, puppy panting in the passenger seat, fuzzy slippers and hot cocoa mix in the back....excitment, happiness, calm was all mine....it never occurred to me that my enjoyment of these things should be diminished in some way because I was alone. It never does until I get "T'aw"-ed.

Mini Road Trip

Two days off in a row, a break in the rain and a little car languishing in park? I'm outta here!

Put a bow on that, I'll take it!

Mom's going home to her own gift....Marco (scroll down), her new boaty hired-hand.

back home

The windchill was below zero this morning as I walked down Armitage in search of a duffel bag for Mom of the Always Short A Bag When Traveling. The snow started falling as the plane rolled out to the runway at O'Hare tonight....Portland, at a mild 45 degrees, seems downright balmy.

gold vs. green

The long, straight drive from Los Angeles to Portland, up the I-5, wasn't as fun as I had hoped my roadtrip would be...I had original plans of enjoying the Pacific Coast Highway and 101, but time constraints changed that. The only two pics I got (low batteries) show an interesting change in scenery color between middle California and middle Oregon.

Despite myself.

Damn it, I'm happy. Portland, more clearly than ever after some time in Smogville, is becoming a very liveable, enjoyable city with lots to offer. My job is good, I like what I do and I seem to not suck at it. I've had the chance to travel to see beloved family recently. Friends have journeyed here to see me. My dog still greets me with enthusiasm. I'm not painting, but I'm ok with that--it will come back, when I have the time and inspiration in the future-and I like that, I like that it's my little thing to pull out when it pleases me and me only. I have friends all over the world, most of whom keep in touch regularly with stories of adventures great and small. My little apartment is looking like a proper home, only a few projects remain and who wants to be short of home improvement projects anyway? My health is good; a good friend just the other day said I look great, that despite what I say about living here, it must work because it looks good on me. Ha ha. I think I finally let the boy go, so I'm ready for the next new boyfriend (that was only five years in the making). With the good job and new wheels, I have new freedoms to enjoy and adventures to plan. I was even recently paid to write about my crocheting hobby (and the resulting bersitus). So, I'm good, I'm ready..bring on the next big thing!

Ok, so it's good here. I'm happy. Damn it.

In the eye of the beholder.

The jaunty angle of the melted antenna on my new (used) car is 'sporty', people, 'sporty'!

it's all about the comparison...

Ok, so I've been now to Los Angeles.

Portland? .....Not so bad!

I did too.

Rumor has it that my brother Tom enjoyed my visit.

breakin' in

I drove my new (used) car more yesterday, visiting friends in L.A., than I've collectively driven any car in the last two years. (cross-country trip excluded). Having to find your way in Los Angeles, capitol of cars, is a great breaking-in for the newly reinitiated to driving. I no longer mind at all that the Jetta is an automatic.

It's a kick that a mapquest approximation of 15 minutes is actually, in reality, an hour in LA time. I could never live in a place where people say: "You took surface?" (meaning, you took regular streets, not the freeway?")

german engineered wheels in need of loving home

I have not purchased a new used car. I have adopted it. I'm giving it a better home, I've saved it from a sad situation, am giving it the home it deserves. More on the story later. The story involves family scheming, rainwater, denial, the Land of Lincoln and a stray cat---it's a good one.

vroom vroom

woo-hoo! In less than a week, I'll have wheels!

How much Ikea can you fit in a Jag?

I rented a car yesterday to make the trip up to Seattle for an Ikea run. I know, not a good idea on a Saturday--the punters were out in full force for the Swedish meatballs, but it's a rare weekend off and I need more bookshelves (too much Powell's).

I had reserved a standard mid-size, in hopes of getting something with ok gas mileage and folding back seats. They had one on the lot, only the previous renter had failed to put the keys in the night drop box. So I was bumped up, free of charge, to...get this, a Jag! ha ha!

As it turns out, you CAN fit a heck of alot in the back of a Jag. Which is a good thing, because I found much more than I had planned on getting, of course.

Now, where's my allen wrench?

p.s. A note on the car itself; I'm never very impressed when a high-end version of anything is recreated in a lower-end version. When you start at the top and cheap out, the results usually disappoint (as opposed to starting with little and seeing how much you can create, which I greatly admire--a la Ikea now that I think of it).

The X-type Jag is no exception--aside from the pretty front end (that you can't see when parking!), it's a bummer of a design. The interior is anything but intuitive--I had to refer to the manual THREE times during the trip to locate and understand controls (cruise control, the gas cap release, the back seat fold down mechanism). Despite a dozen adjustment levers, the seat design also left my behind and back aching--for long trips, lack of lumbar support is a serious flaw that no amount of leather can cure.

And on the road? Speedy, but slushy. What good is pep if you can't control it? The steering wheel behaved like an pretty accessory, not a tool. On curves at highway speeds, it felt like the entire chassis was sliding out from under me. Not good.

I wonder what the 70 year-old lady in the fish bowl next to me had in her handbag.

My boss said something the other day that I will add to my list of favorite sayings:

"You've done a great job wallpapering the bedroom closet, but the fire that started in the kitchen is now in the living room".

It's a perfect analogy for the retail business--keep your head down too long on a piddly project, and you miss the bigger picture (usually sales). It also applies to my experience at the Portland Airport Security Checkpoint.

I had a metal card-holder in my back pocket (especially when traveling, I like to keep one credit card and form of ID in my purse, another set in my pocket--if a thief gets one, at least I have the other). I had forgotten about it when emptying my person of metal goods before walking through x-ray. I had removed my earrings, necklace, coat, shoes, even my belt. These security checks are humbling enough, does the container for my personal belongings really have to be a dog dish? Don't get me started.

So, the machine beeps at my card holder. I immediately realize my oversight and pull it out, "Oh, here, it's this, I forgot, so sorry." Not good enough.

I'm pulled aside into the clear-glass paneled exam area (the 'fish bowl'), told to stand with my feet apart on the diagram (designed for 6ft tall men) and then patted down by Attila. She didn't even want to look at the offending object. It was tossed aside, along with my passport (!) and ticket, onto a chair in plain view and easy reach of anyone still lingering at the exit of the security area--which was a lot of people. Putting on their shoes and buckling their pants. Out of context, it looked like the last five minutes of an orgy.

I don't mind being hand-scanned. I can spread my legs and open out my arms wide. I don't mind being cooperative. I do, however, mind the loud running commentary: "I'm going to touch your breasts now, How's that underwire working for ya?, Ok, free government back rub!" Free government backrub? Excuse me? No one can bear to hear lame attempts at funny when being stared at by fifty strangers, held in an akward physical position and fondled by a government agent in an ill-fitting uniform. Could we perhaps do this with some dignity??

After another few humiliating moments, I was allowed to proceed. Which meant making my way back through the fray to pick up my belongings (out of the school desk tray and dog dish). My coat, shoes, and purse had not been further inspected, I was free to go.

In my purse? A lighter, a crochet hook and thread scissors. All contraband.

in flight

Downtown Chicago

Things I learned on this journey:

1) If you do it your 'self', it's not 'service'.
2) Always, always travel in cashmere.
3) Cell phone use on planes taxing to the gate should be banned.
4) My mattress sucks.
5) No one greets better than a dog.

...visit before the snow flies....

Only three days until I'm off to Chicago!

sightseeing for the soul

...a trip out of town did me so much good, am at last seeing images that inspire painting, itchy to pull out brushes and canvas again after so long...

the asian influence

more gorgeousness at Vancouvers Chinese Gardens.

Oh Canada!

Vancouver, BC
love, love, love this city!

on the waterfront

People-watching, old-school market shopping, sunshine and boats on Granville Island, Vancouver, BC. The boats did me good, didn't know how much I miss seeing them everyday.

p.s. at Granville Public Market, found my cheese!! Very much worth minor scuffle at border-crossing, 'suspicious cheese'...

me? scared of heights? never!

I swear to god, I would have gone up Grouse Mountain in the scary swinging basket-on-a-wire thingy, I swear! But sadly, we decided to skip it in favor of more time elsewhere exploring Vancouver, BC...

tossin' one back

Screw the Space Needle, I wanted to see the guys throwing fish at Pike Place Market!

above the grunge

Seattle, Washington

so perty

Japanese Garden in Washington Park, Portland, Oregon

have hook, will travel

I have this weekend off....never been to Seattle...but now I REALLY want to go...for this!
Sad? Maybe..but me and my yarn don't care!

hello govn'r

Dad's visit to London to see Peg, Ryan and Baby Stella

Oh Canada!

It's alot easier than you'd think to emigrate to Canada.

over there, over there

"Grandpa Mikkelsen" and "Noodle"

Dad just returned from a quick visit (four days! no jetlag recovery time!) to London to see Peg and Ryan and of course, the person of the hour--Stella. I can't get over how much little Stella looks like my sister (it's in the eyes) and how very much Dad looks like his dad, my Grandpa Bunny.

home sick for the southland

Browsing a copy of "1001 Places to See Before You Die" while waiting at the checkout counter; it fell open to "Savannah's Historic District".

Hm. Message in a point-of-purchase display?

the sequel

Mom and Bert on Tishie Mae I last summer, Mom one of the five lovely towns of Cinque Terre on the Italian coast last year

It's official, late last week Mom found the bigger boat! Tishie Mae II (a Jeanneau Sun Odyssey) smaller than I would have suggested for living in tight quarters on water with your brother--only 37 feet, but she swears they'll make it work. They've survived with only one bathroom in the apartment for this long, what's the trouble with one head? And as long as Mom keeps Bert fed, I think all will be well.

It's moored in Viareggo, Italy, near Le Spezia and the Cinque Terre area we loved so much last year. The "crew" will be based there for about a month for training and shake-down cruising before they head off into the horizon...

more of the same.

four month itch

a shot from the November roadtrip....wishing I was back on the road. any road.

The Mighty Pacific

"God pointing down at you" skies spotted frequently at the beach. Where's Uncle Bert when you need him to explain cloud formations?

Spent New Year's weekend on The Oregon Coast (in Neskowin, at Proposal Rock)---so glad to see open water again. I'd taken the Med for granted. The Pacific is grey and mean by comparison, but open water just the same. Driving out there (about an hour and half, give or take), we traveled through any number of entirely different weather systems--drizzle, fog and mist, pouring rain, clearish, drizzle, clear and sunny, fog and repeat.

visit to the middle

Miss Ruby enjoying the affections of Grandpa Bunny.

Things are much the same in Edgar, Nebraska as I recall from childhood---"the" school is still standing, the jello still wiggles, and coolwhip containers are just as handy as ever. bless.

I blame the pending 14-hour drive day for the poor quality of the only shot of me, Grandma Eileen and Grandpa Bunny's chin all together:

the square states

at last, images from my cross-country journey. enjoy. lots of square state stuff. corn. road. sky.
more to come later.

reflection

this just in from Anna's Thanksgiving visit with the family---"Cloud", the new public sculpture in Chicago's Millenium Park--but everyone's calling it the "Bean". great shot. I really, really miss Chicago--which is strange as I've not lived there in um, a decade? But to me, as I've said before, the holiday season will always be the Q clan and the big shiny city of Chicago. sigh.

What freakin' time is it?

Jet-lag is one thing---jet-lag confusion is quite another. I know I'm jet-lagged, I can feel it---thing is, my body can't figure out WHICH time zone to be je-lagged from!

some things never change, they aren't supposed to

Life in Savannah remains about the same---warm, muggy, relaxed and friendly---even as the storefronts on Broughton Street continue their revolving-business roller-coaster. The squares are lovely, the moss is hanging and cocktails flowing---and I can't help feeling that it's time for me to get going.

Savannah was good for me, it was the first big change that allowed me to make all the later changes, some smaller, a few much bigger. It was the first big adventure, the first new place, new culture, new fears, going out there without a rope----I will miss it: that moody, rough-around-the-edges spirit that welcomes kooks and eclectics and makes miracles of crab cakes.

I leave on Friday morning. I'll be back, but no, it won't ever really be the same.

storage units, saluting strangers

woo-hoo! All my belongings are safe and sound in the storage unit, and with some editing and creative packing, they should all fit in the rented minivan (not a uhaul truck, an actual minivan, much more comfortable!) without a problem. Now, just have to pick up the rental, get some maps and I'll be all set to hit the road....with some advice from my Dad, I should be in clover:

"Finally, remember when driving across Nebraska that it is considered polite to raise your index finger off the steering wheel to greet approaching tractors and pick up trucks, emphasis on INDEX."

What is it with dads and driving/car advice?

howdy!

I'm back! What a journey (!), and it's really just begining...

The huge suitcases (2) met the wieght limit (70 lbs each) by just a hair--after I removed a few things at the counter into an impromptu carry-on. Ruby was boxed and loaded, tagged and transfered, customs checked, off-loaded and re-loaded, lugged and finally, let loose. To pee on our keeper's carpet. Oops.

Flying over the eastern seaboard at night---an unexpected pleasure--the lights of the city grids, harbors and highways were gorgeous ---orange,white and blue designs on black out into the horizon. If only my seat mate had been so attractive.

Everything----everything!----is so LARGE. Cars, sandwiches, roads, buildings, --all of it, the scale--I'm thrown. Don't even ask me about the frightening muffins.

bye bye inheritance

Mom and Bert are back from their journey through Spain---I got the call before they arrived: "Have dinner ready!" Spanish food didn't agree with them.

The Palmer Johnson boat didn't work out, but on their last day in Barcelona a strong contender for the bigger-boat contest was discovered. A 40ft Island Packet, designed with the retired, gentle cruiser in mind. In addition to being quite heavy, solid and simple to sail (everything is controlled from the cockpit), the interior details have been designed with comfort in mind, for example, all the hatches and stowage bins have pneumatic hinges and interior lights---perfect. Seems she's finally found her personal Winnebago!

Mom's got some new claw-ended stick thingy, just arrived in this morning's mail, another thingmabob she bought for the boat. It scares me: the wierd claw-stick and the propensity for purchasing boat equipment both.

no siesta for the bigger boat search

Update from Mom and Bert, somewhere in Spain: The visit to see Pilgrim (I almost said the pilgrimage, but that's just unforgiveable) was not successful. They did manage to find it, to see it, but it didn't come up to expectations--as Mom said in our short phone conversation 'Nothing worked on it." Good call to pass it by if you ask me! So, they're stopping at a few more marinas on their way back, expect to see them here again early next week.

off their rocks

Mom and Bert are driving down through southern France and most of Spain to Gibraltar (a rock the inhabitants share with mean monkeys), determined to see the Pilgrim, a 48ft re-fitted aluminum cruiser originally built for racing by Palmer Johnson in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin back in '71. Bert swears he saw it being launched back in the day. I have a good feeling about this boat, this could be the one. Will the 'bigger boat' quest ever be over?