Loving

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end of summer

Oh gosh, the morning air lately. I wake up chilled and cuddle the hubster while the light changes. Sometimes we chat of all that woke up swimming in our brains. Funny stories, dreams – little and big, rages and raves. Then we’re up and out and walking and taking in the beauties of this great and glorious city. It’s difficult to imagine a better beginning to our day. Geese off to warmer pastures, pools of mountain light, cotton candy pillow clouds. And twice this week, there was snow on Pike’s Peak. I love that mountain from every angle, but boy, how each is enhanced when the wintry robes are on.

We met our littlest cousin yesterday, healthy, happy, and positively adorable. Juniper was so curious and good, hopping up to get a sniff while I cuddled and cuddled and cuddled, before playing guard dog and distant observer. Such sweetness.

It had been a while since I held such a wee babe (eight pounds at the moment), and I am delighted to report that I remain dazzled by every aspect: the tiny hands, tiny cries, rosebud lips, soft sighs and spit-up.

And, as promised, our little herb patch, fruit orchard, and wood store, fenced and protected from our best digger dog. We have two varieties of sage, chives, nectarine, cherry, and plum trees; rhubarb, strawberry, black raspberry, blackberry, red and black currant, elderberry, and gooseberry. What beautiful harvests we have in our future!

Orange Horned Poppy

Hummingbird Moth

Moon Carrot

Wabbit

This and the one above – Apache Plume

Colorado Springs – home of my dreams…

Well, we did it! We hosted our cousin’s birthday party Saturday (and took not one photo of the actual festivities, only the frosting, which was Y U M) and yesterday, a little afternoon garden party for our ever curious neighbors (What on earth are you doing??). What fun! And what a great relief, too, to have all that work behind us and everyone enjoying the beautiful fruits of our labor. There was much laughter, lots and lots of cake, and hummingbirds zooming about. WooT!

To treat ourselves, we’ve pulled not one weed, nor put one plant in the ground (though there are three echinacea waiting). This weekend maybe, but for now we are enjoying long walks to breakfast with the girl (thank you Good Neighbors!), book reading, game playing, and home improvement show watching, because that, my friends, is our JAM.

Happy Wednesday!

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p.s.

Look at that little river flow!!

Oh gosh, we are so tired around here. After hours and hours of landscaping and gardening, all that moving to and fro, to and fro, fingers sore, arms so very brown from such labor, I am ready for stillness. To not wonder if I have time to walk with Greg and Juniper come morning or just squeeze in the time to walk. To see the floodway wet with last night’s rain, ducks squawking, sun pennies glittering. To take my time and not wonder what on the list is next. So soon! I am ready and waiting on bated breath. Yes.

One of the sights when I have had time to walk – these little pups stirring up a ruckus, well, really just the chihuahua, whenever Juniper walks by. I don’t quite know how they do it, but they are up at the top of that six foot fence lickety-split quick.

Our happy girl. What luck to have found each other. Indeed.

The two of them together. Happiness!

The hubster and I both dreamt about my Grandpa last night, of him being with us before realizing the reality of his death. Both of us reminded of the truth that the dead never leave us. He is here, beside us, as we type, move, and breathe. Always.

There is serendipity in the dreaming, too. Today, my grandparents house sale is finalized. The last place to smell of them, of sixty years lived well in one treasured spot. The porch light will not be left on for me. No more glimpsing through the windows, across the street, onto the porch, or the Skulavik’s yard. I have taken one last look in the mirror at the end of the hall. Grandma hasn’t swept nor dusted in more than three and a half years. My hand will no longer shhhh down the banister, to the raucous stair creak of a million exuberant Lewis, Sohn, and Johnstone steps. Every game, National Geographic, book, and beloved record, Chicken Fat to Herb Alpert, emptied from the shelves my Grandpa built. A snazzy rack void of his ties. And I, the not terribly sentimental type, weepy at the thought.

There will be traces, however, a beloved photograph buried in a jar. A few pieces of furniture, and the remains of our love and laughter, racing like neutrinos, through every atom of the house.

Direction: Northwest!!

Hood * Jefferson * Three Sisters

And Mt. Hood, all by its lonesome.

The most wonderful reasons for my return to Portland! Solveig’s little Luna had her third, and we sure hope final, open heart surgery, the Fontan. Our girl (now age five!) is a true heart warrior, having the strength to come home from the hospital a mere week after surgery. While she isn’t 100% and we need to be careful not to bump or jostle her, the strides she’s making are really quite remarkable. Her baby brother, Zoran, has grown by leaps and bounds since we last cuddled and bounced, with an adorable personality to match. I love them all so much!

Most of my time alone was spent sleeping and wandering the city for old haunts and memories. I am super happy to report that many remain. I was so afraid of a city so changed as to be unrecognizable.  Though there are differences (good gracious SE 50th Avenue!) there was much more that sent my heart galloping with glee.

Brown Lumber was one of our beloved local spots to buy supplies for our million and one home improvement projects. They have super customer service, but I liked their sign best:

WATCH OUT FOR THE POST WHEN BACKING UP

POST 111

TRUCKS 0

Gets me every time…

At the zoo…

Southeast Portland gets its Bushwick on, fabulous mural style.

 GUN not GONE

Never was, never will be.

Tofu makes my body wanna DIE, but I’m happy to see this old Portland business is still plugging along.

One of my favorite Portland peeps (Hi Susan!) with some of my favorite food:

the cocktel del pulpo at Tacqueria Nueve!

Southbound Number 75

I shall never tire of this view

Or this one!

More to come…

 

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