Where do People HAVE to be on Sunday AM?

I was out admiring the landscape this morning and suddenly heard people yelling - I look down towards Rosa Parks from my house and people in SUVs and pick-ups are crashing into each other and causing a ruckus, disrupting my previous observation about noiselessness. Sheesh.

Silver Thaw

This morning we have about 10 inches of snow with about a .5" layer of ice encrusted on the top of it. The tree limbs are bowed with ice on them; if it warms up we will have that silver thaw we used to talk about when we were kids. I don't hear that term used anymore...I wonder why???

We still have power - last night was so eerily quiet it made me think of Mom's essay on Noise - which she wrote once when her power went out during a winter storm. I'd say we're at Noise - 1. The power is still on, but the snow (and layer of ice on top of it) keeps people in their homes and muffles all other sounds of the city outside. I was up early this morning with dog, and it felt like I was the only person living on earth it was so quiet....

Roberta's Pink Boots Saved My Life!

Well, not yet, but I expect them to anytime now!

I have a fear (David says an "irrational fear") of being buried alive in this stuff....but I've been wearing Roberta's boots all week throughout this weather, and I'm here to tell you these boots are terrific.

Blizzard

This has been one heckuva week for weather on Omaha Street!

Today it is literally a blizzard....my back yard is so quaint looking!

I Little Slave

One of the greatest things about my job as Department Administrator at OHSU is that I have a fascinating faculty. They write books about their experiences and I am trying to read them all. It's a daunting reading list, but always interesting.

This week's read: "I Little Slave" a prison memoir from Communist Laos by Bounsang Khamkeo, a counselor at the Department's Intercultural Psychiatric Program.

"A haunting narrative of undaunted will"

"Raised in the hierarchical society of traditional Laos, Bounsang Khamkeo earned his doctorate in political scinece in France and returned home in 1973 to a country in political chaos in the wake of the Vietnam War. He worked for the government until 1981 before being imprisoned by the communist Pathet Lao government after running afoul of a politically ambitious boss. I Little Slave is the account of his seven year struggle in prison to stay alive and keep sane in spite of harsh physical privation and endless psychological abuse. Khamkeo's story is a moving and important one at a time when political oppression and crimes against human rights are on the rise throughout the world."

Ghosts

It is a well-known fact that there is a ghost at the Ranch. It's been there a long time. The ghost has been known to be annoying, but not necessarily unfriendly.

Recently, I received this message from my Mother:

Our resident ghost has taken up some new activities. I am wondering if it has anything to do with the political rhetoric spewing from every TV and radio in the country.

Let me recount some of “SHIMS” activities. For the last couple of weeks my alarm clock, which I have never ever used, goes off at around midnight. Most radios and TVs are quiet at that time so guess Shim wants to arise and is looking for a little peace and quiet. That went on for some time until two nights ago when I suddenly awakened at around 4:00 A.M. A lot of talk seemed to be going on somewhere in my vicinity. My thought was maybe Chesley had arisen early for some reason and was playing his radio. I tossed and turned for a while and finally got up, went to the window, and listened. Nobody talking out there. Next, I opened my bedroom door and listened. The talking was loud and clear downstairs. In my half-, nude condition I tiptoed down the stairs to find what was happening. In the kitchen, the radio was playing loud and clear. Looking around I could see no one so quickly turned the radio off and hurried back to bed. I could not sleep so when I got up for the day I checked the radio; the station broadcasting was the same station I listened to earlier in the day. You know I am inept at running the radio so am uneasy about changing stations.

Last night the same scenario occurred. I have examined my clock and my radio. Tampering of the clock seems to be the problem, as the alarm on/off button seems to be stuck to on. Since the radio is not a clock radio I have no idea how it turns on except to blame Shim. Maybe he/she gets lonely at night and wants to hear a little talk Looking forward to your next visit so you can experience the phenomena I put up with every night.

Old Datsun Pickups

I saw a completely refurbished Datsun pickup the other day; one of the old ones that are small, had round headlights. We had one when I was young and we used to ride around with Dad on the ranch doing chores.

What I remember about this pickup was that we (John and I) would ride with Dad around the ranch doing chores in this pickup. It was sized just right for John and I to get in and out of easily.

I think my Grandfather bought the pickup, but I have no idea what happened to it. (Anybody know? Want to add to this story?) Dad didn't like the pickup; possibly because it was Japanese-made and he was a WWII vet who fought against the Japanese. In those days, anything made in Japan was a joke; it was poorly made and would break down fast. (How times have changed!)

However, John and I loved that pickup. We would sneak away to the pickup because we knew that Dad would sometimes go to the story, buy candy and stash it in the glove box. We would sneak out to sit in it, turn on the radio (which worked without having the engine on!) and suck down those sickly sweet sugar-coated orange slices that Dad was so fond of.

Ahhhhh, now those are great memories....