108°

Yesterday, Portland, Oregon broke its all-time high temperature. Hottest. Day. Ever.

The former record was 107°, recorded a couple of times, so one degree is not a shocker. The Northwest traditionally gets miserably hot for a handful of days during the summer. But usually that is later in the summer, say July or August. I feel for the poor people sweltering away.

But here is the kicker. Today’s forecast high for Portland is 115°. Monday’s is 115°. Makes the predicted highs for the Upper Hood River Valley seem cool. Only 105° today and 106° on Monday.

Needless to say, this weather is unprecedented. In the 31 years I lived in the valley, I only know of one time it his 100° in the Upper Valley. But my records are purely haphazard, so they must be taken with a grain of salt. This would be hot weather for Phoenix.

To all my friends in the northwest, I am sweating for you.

In the Quiet Morning

 I sit on the back porch. The sun is up and shining brightly, but it has yet to start serving its obnoxious heat. And in truth, it isn’t quiet. With the legions of crows and ducks and song birds, there is a peaceful cacophony meeting my ears.

Southern California.

I left here 34 years ago vowing never to come back. I had a strong dislike for this place, particularly for the Inland Empire. So, isn’t it ironic I find myself back here and actually like it? Hmm, what has changed?

When I lived here before, it was in central Riverside, walking distance to downtown. While that sounds good, I seldom did. There was no reason to go downtown Riverside. Nothing there.

All of Los Angeles’ smog was funneled through Riverside and San Bernardino. Air quality was horrible! I was commuting 40 minutes each way to a graveyard shift job for scant pay. I had little spare money.

I was in a bad relationship. It was not the best of times.

Now, I am about 25 miles south if Riverside in the heart of Sun City, California (not to be confused with the inferior Sun City, Arizona). Technically speaking, I am within walking distance of downtown Sun City. There really isn’t a downtown Sun City (a dated, half empty strip mall takes its place) and I can’t walk that far now, but technically speaking…

 There are mountains or hills or whatever you want to call the big clumps of dirt and rocks to our west that block the worst of the pollution. I am ‘retired’ so there is no frustrating commute to a low paying job. I can easily live within my means.

My relationship with Karla is good. Okay, I snap occasionally. She may speak unkindly of me at times, but all in all it is good. And I have spaces (small) to garden, and lots of space for potted plants. Content.

It ain’t Hood River, but I am making do!

Meet Bettie Jean

 

I first met Bettie Jean at the local Lowe's. She was a bit scraggly and ugly but a good price. She is a Scarlet Knight Rose. I noticed I was bleeding at the check-out counter. I feared she was closely related to Billie Jean, but bought her anyway. Foolish mistake!

Later, as I was thinking about what to name it, my thoughts rambled to Petticoat Junction, one of the 1960's sitcoms best forgotten, but it had Billie Jo, Bobbie Jo and Betty Jo. My mind digested the information.

Then I got home. I re-read that it was a Scarlet Knight Rose. Well, the State University of New Jersey (Rutgers) are the Scarlet Knights (oblique tie in to Richard). And there was this emotional good-bye to the Nachtwacht on Rembrandtplein the last time Richard and I were in Amsterdam. I had my picture taken hugging Rutger tight!

So, I was tossing and turning and torn between Bettie Jean and Rutger. Today the rose ripped me to shreds again. Rutger never hurt me.

Bettie Jean it is.

She is sitting in her new home pot, but I am afraid to transplant her!

Happy summer!

I always forget it if the summer solstice is the one with the vestal virgins and volcanoes, or the one where you sit on your back porch and smoke a bowl.

I chose the latter. Volcanoes are a long drive from Menifee!

North Bend, Oregon

Three dead, suspect armed and dangerous.

My old home town. Sleepy, soggy North Bend. This isn’t the burg of my memories. Forty some odd years ago there is a good chance I would have known people directly impacted.

I ache for the victim’s families.

When will this madness end!

Happy Juneteenth

Transcript of the Emancipation Proclamation

January 1, 1863

A Transcription

By the President of the United States of America:

A Proclamation.

Whereas, on the twenty-second day of September, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-two, a proclamation was issued by the President of the United States, containing, among other things, the following, to wit:

"That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free; and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom.

"That the Executive will, on the first day of January aforesaid, by proclamation, designate the States and parts of States, if any, in which the people thereof, respectively, shall then be in rebellion against the United States; and the fact that any State, or the people thereof, shall on that day be, in good faith, represented in the Congress of the United States by members chosen thereto at elections wherein a majority of the qualified voters of such State shall have participated, shall, in the absence of strong countervailing testimony, be deemed conclusive evidence that such State, and the people thereof, are not then in rebellion against the United States."

Now, therefore I, Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States, by virtue of the power in me vested as Commander-in-Chief, of the Army and Navy of the United States in time of actual armed rebellion against the authority and government of the United States, and as a fit and necessary war measure for suppressing said rebellion, do, on this first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, and in accordance with my purpose so to do publicly proclaimed for the full period of one hundred days, from the day first above mentioned, order and designate as the States and parts of States wherein the people thereof respectively, are this day in rebellion against the United States, the following, to wit:

Arkansas, Texas, Louisiana, (except the Parishes of St. Bernard, Plaquemines, Jefferson, St. John, St. Charles, St. James Ascension, Assumption, Terrebonne, Lafourche, St. Mary, St. Martin, and Orleans, including the City of New Orleans) Mississippi, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and Virginia, (except the forty-eight counties designated as West Virginia, and also the counties of Berkley, Accomac, Northampton, Elizabeth City, York, Princess Ann, and Norfolk, including the cities of Norfolk and Portsmouth[)], and which excepted parts, are for the present, left precisely as if this proclamation were not issued.

And by virtue of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States, and parts of States, are, and henceforward shall be free; and that the Executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.

And I hereby enjoin upon the people so declared to be free to abstain from all violence, unless in necessary self-defence; and I recommend to them that, in all cases when allowed, they labor faithfully for reasonable wages.

And I further declare and make known, that such persons of suitable condition, will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations, and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service.

And upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, warranted by the Constitution, upon military necessity, I invoke the considerate judgment of mankind, and the gracious favor of Almighty God.

In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.

Done at the City of Washington, this first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty three, and of the Independence of the United States of America the eighty-seventh.

By the President: ABRAHAM LINCOLN

WILLIAM H. SEWARD, Secretary of State. 

I'm gonna get Billie Jean a job!

 

She'll make a fortune as a phlebotomist.

Mystery: Part Two

 Max used to speak of the DDDs.

I didn’t believe his prattle. He was a cat after all. All cats think all dogs are the devil incarnate. But then, he did get along with Ralph and Trixie quite well. And he was the second cousin once removed of the devil; he knew things that were dark secrets, unknown to the rest of creation.

Anyway, Max spoke of these evil beasts. Fiends that lived in the bushes and terrorized neighborhoods. The DDDs.

They would do all the normal neighborhood dog crap: knock over the garbage cans, sully the sidewalks, trample through the gardens and rip up plants. But they were more sinister. If you had a favorite wild animal, they would leave the corps at your door. They had the ability to scorch the earth. They are even capable of giving you memory loss. And they hate friendly cats. (Don’t worry Billie Jean and Duchess are safe. I worry for César and Augustus more.) The DDDs are evil, evil creatures.

So, I gave Satan a call. After an friendly  interrogation by his assistant, I was suddenly speaking with him. I told him how much I missed Max and hoped he would give him a snuggle for me. (Max was in solitary confinement at the time for his foul language.) I told the devil the situation.  He turned to his computer. A few taps and he turned back to me.

“I am so sorry, I do have DDDs in your neighborhood. I must have an old address of yours. I will call them off immediately.”

We chatted for a while and said good-bye. I updated my personal information with him and all was good!

The neighborhood has been saved!

Photos of the carnage

 

The scene of the crime with the mourning Allen family. The matriarch and eldest child are gone. As is the aloe custom, the deceased is covered in red with its roots showing. The eldest son is unmentioned, as some believe he may be the killer.

The Alvarez's are in mourning also. Mrs. Allen and Mrs. Alvarez were sisters. The loss is almost overwhelming for this clan.

The Inlaws and the Outlaws also mourn. There are relations by marriage and that kind of thing with the Allens, but it still kicks them in the gut.

And Ambrose and his family. He moved away to the front porch long ago. His mother is gone.

He was unable to go back for the service.

Mystery: Part 1

 It was a dark and stormy night…

Who am I kidding? This is Southern California. There is no such thing as a “stormy night”.

Okay, it was a sunny morning before it got too hot. I went out back to kibbutz with the plants. All were well until I got to the Allen family (aloe vera plants in one pot; tight knit family). Mrs. Allen had been ripped out by her roots. Her death came as a devastating shock to the entire aloe community. The Alvarez’s, the Inlaws and the Outlaws and Ambrose all mourned with and tried to comfort the distraught Allen family. (The aloe community is quite large.) Not only did they have to cope with Mrs. Allen’s death, but the eldest son was missing. Something foul here. Trauma in the aloe world.

 The entire flora community feigned remorse for the Allen's loss, but some of them refer to the aloes as low-brow trailer trash. I mean, they are easy and they do procreate like rabbits on steroids, but I feel that there is some specie-specific prejudice involved.

So, to cut through the soap opera, something had broken off a good chunk of the aloe! Too big of a chunk to be anything that I have ever seen on the back porch.

Perhaps a crow on a midnight carousal accidentally broke it off? That is possible. Yes, I am sure that is it.

Then later as I was sitting on the deck playing on my computer when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of an animal. All I saw was the rear end of a black creature. My first thought was that Duchess had gotten out. That isn’t true. My first thought was Max had gotten out. Second was Billie Jean. Third guess was Duchess. It wasn’t Duchess. Shortly later I saw the neighborhood rabbit dart from the area where I saw the black beast.

I know! I know! The rabbit is the black, vicious monster I saw. He has a black, furry body-suit that he hides in the woods and he strips it off and innocently hops around the neighborhood. Yeah, that’s it.

Then two evenings later, I step on the back patio and to the left there is a dead bird on the tiles near the entry to Karla’s porch. There are three small birds that visit me often. Their visits are always fun. I’m not positive, as their visits were always brief and social distancing and masks and all that, but I think I recognized the feathered being. I haven’t seen the trio since

Who would do such a thing? This was definitely a homicide. Sweet little birdie was injured mortally in some savage attack. I didn’t have a clue.

Then Karla told me she’d seen a glimpse of the black brute.

The hair rose on the back of my neck. My body tensed. Many of you are aware that my late cat, Max was the second cousin once removed of the devil. I know of things that most people don’t.

Devil’s Disturbed Dogs… the DDDs for short.

You’ll understand my terror in a moment.

It is officially summer in Southern California

Excess Heat Watch turns into Excessive Heat Warning. I’m not sure the technical difference but I am sure some mad scientists somewhere knows the formula, but they are sworn to secrecy.

It’s 8:30PM and 93°. Warning: I’m not gonna whine! I think I got this figured out. Take care of the outdoor plants early, then sit back and relax in your air-conditioned condo. At some point go back out and turn on the fans and the misters. Makes it almost pleasurable and it waters many plants. The entry just needs watering in the morning. It doesn’t get as much direct sun.

But it is hot enough that it bothers my breathing. I have to be very careful outdoors. I am one of those people they are warning. Bummer being of unsound health.

Excessive Heat Watch!

 

Yep, that is the official weather forecast.

It is officially whining season. It is 10AM and 80°. Need I say more?

I would watch the excessive heat from the comfort of my air-conditioned condo, but I do have to care for the plants outdoors. They ain’t gonna wander to the local watering hole by themselves.

I am done with my morning devoirs. As soon as the back porch is in the shade, I have some plants that need to be repotted, then a light watering in the evening.

The plants have me tied around their little leaves.

I may never be able to leave home for more than an hour or two at a time again!

RED LETTER DATE!!!

 

After 11 months and 1 day we are at 10,000 miles. And note the 133.6 mpg!

    Good car, good car!

I've spoken about the garden, but have ignored the inside plants

 Three live in my bedroom.

Marilyn

Lipstick Plant: I’ve looked up “Lipstick Plant” on the internet, and none of them look anything like Marilyn. But Wayno told me she was a lipstick plant, and I choose to believe Wayno. There is so much garbage on the internet these days! When I was a kid, you could believe everything you read online, but now you have to sort through the crap! Marilyn moved with him from New York City to Yakima to Hood River. She is the sole survivor of Wayno’s house plants. So, you understand when she took Ill last fall, I was sad, it tugged at my strings to see her suffer. I actually thought she had passed. As I was cutting her back for disposal, I noted two tiny specs of green. It’s a miracle! Marilyn survived. She’s not the robust plant she once was, but she is growing. Marilyn is a survivor!

Marilyn Manson

Lipstick Plant: Well, if Marilyn is a lipstick plant then so is Marilyn Manson. He is nothing if not his mother’s son. Marilyn Manson and Pho have struck up a close friendship. One is seldom seen without the other. Their gender bending ways give them an esprit that is hard to describe. Marilyn Manson and Pho take turns taking care of Marilyn.  A very tight cadre.

Pho

/

Species Unknown:When I bought it is was called a Faux Palm. It traveled with me from Oregon. When we first moved to California, Pho (Pronounced like ‘faux’) bleached some of its fronds blond to blend in with the hip lifestyle of the Inland Empire. Then it decided it was non-binary and asexual. I’m not sure why my house plants have such confusing personal lives. Yes, Pho got some shit over her announcement in the flora community. There was some open hostility in the outdoor community. It decided to move inside the condo and it has thrived. Pho’s growth in the year+ in SoCal has been amazing. All its blond fronds are gone and it truly seems happy sitting in the window, watching little old people toddle by. They have a strong support group, rooming with Marilyn and Marilyn Manson.

Another day

I sit, reflecting back on an oddly undisturbing day. I drove our still unnamed car to the dealership for its “ten-month checkup”! WHOA DOGGIE!!! That is one of those events you anticipate for what seems like an eternity.

The morning finally comes. You have to decide if you are going to go through with the appointment or throw yourself off your balcony. You live on the ground floor. The ground is well mulched. Yes, you could hurt yourself, but after Karla bandaged you up, you would still find yourself driving to the dealership in far-away Moreno Valley.

So, I took unmamed car in for its check-up. There really were no other options. When I made the appointment, they told me it would be two hours so I was prepared with a book and a bottle of water. When I arrived, they were swamped. But a young man greeted me shortly. I could tell by the sparkle of his eyes that he was grinning. He told me he loved my mask and thanked me for giving him a smile and he said Lauren would be out soon. I have to admit that simple greeting made all seem cool. (Thanks again, Trudy.) A couple of minutes later a woman came out, introduced herself and said that Lauren was busy, but that she could get me checked in. Check in went quickly and efficiently. When I asked about the two-hour estimate, this person was apologizing left and right, but it would be three hours. She gave me options; they had drivers who would take me anywhere, or they had a tv lounge I could sit it.

She was good at her job. I was oddly calm and went into the tv lounge. There was a novella playing. Soap operas in Spanish aren’t my thing. But across the drive, dappled in sunlight was a cement bench. It wasn’t a warm morning so the sun sounded wonderful. The bench was surprising comfortable considering it was concrete. The curves worked for me. I spent an hour and half reading a great book that Karla loaned me, enjoying the sun.

But my amazing paradise sunk into shade and I went inside for warmth. I found that if I sat in the back of the lounge, the novella didn’t distract me and all was good. About an hour later, I decided it was warm enough outside and went back to my little paradise. At 1PM exactly may car was pulled up right in front of where I sat.

I went inside. Lauren greeted me and said she was just finishing up my paperwork. The woman who checked me in came to Lauren’s station and made small talk, and the dude who first greeted me joined us. We talked. About the book I was reading. And how do you find time to read? We focused on things that are unifiers, intentionally or not.

A totally bad day was actually okay.

Are these drugs good, or what?

Okay, this is important

It has to be said, and I need to say it.

I suffer from depression. I am an intelligent, moderately educated person. I have always believed that mental illness was just that; an illness, a disease to be treated. And yet, when it came time for me to say “I am depressed” aloud, I was embarrassed. At first, I couldn’t do it. I would be humiliated to admit I had one of “those” illnesses. Kind of like saying you have AIDS in the 80s.

I have to fight the stigma. It is a difficult fight. As much as I know by intellection that a disease is a disease, there is an unnatural disgrace that runs deep, even in me, with regards to mental illness. I fully understand and yet I understand nothing. I remember Dr. Foster in Hood River asking me if I was depressed. I laughed it off and said “I have a right to be depressed”. She prescribed me a medicine that she said would give me more energy. I read the fine print. It was an antidepressant. I took it and pretended it was just for ‘energy’.

Maybe I deserve to be depressed, maybe I don’t

But as I said, I suffer. I have been prescribed a new drug that is lifting the defeatism of the last part of my life. I actually enjoy doing things again. Things are far from perfect, but they are getting better. Just admitting to depression, saying it out loud to a medical professional and saying it to myself is starting to revitalize my life.

If anyone who reads this is, or knows anyone who is depressed, please there are professional trained to help.

Suffering is unacceptable!

Karla and I did a staycation

 Ariah had a water polo game in Orange County. Annie and I made a vacation of it. 

It was fun!

Today's garden.

 Woke up this morning to a project.

In the living room was an open box that soon would become a raised metal planter. I put it together quite easily. Piece of cake.

Then a trip to the nursery, and voilà! A new garden.

It's not done, but I am done for the night!

It has a vague resemblance to a garden

 Meet Harry

Muhlenbergia Grass: Harry is a native grass in the eastern and central areas of the United States. He tolerates drought and is not fussy (per the Missouri Botanical Garden). If they are wrong, there could be issues. In fall he shoots out beautiful pink blooms (thanks to MBG for that info.) Harry is about to start his second week with me. 

He has the unfortunate trait of attracting a large domesticated house cat who chews on his greenery, then spit it all back up. You will discover this when you step in the mess with a bare foot. Bad large domesticated house cat! Bad large domesticated house cat! Please note; I am using the term “domesticated” sarcastically.

"To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow"

 I was surprised to learn that the title quote is attributed to Audrey Hepburn. I never would have guessed, but I've come to understand that she loved time in her garden.

It makes me think of marigolds.

Wayno always had marigolds. I don't remember the exact story, but one year at his birthday in NYC, 6 out of 10 guests at his soirée brought him a marigold. (Use your imagination). Every birthday after that he received a peck of marigolds.

At Wayn's wake, everyone was given a packet of marigold seeds that he had saved, with "To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow." printed on the outside. It should be noted that to the best of my knowledge, not one seed propagated.

Tucked in a little nook in my garden.

Salut, Wayno!

June 1st, 2021

 Time wanders. So do I. Umm... where  was I going?, And any clue what I planned to do when I got to wherever  it was I was going? Come on people, I need all the help I can get!

I am on an antidepressant. It has a name, but I don't remember it. Qu'elle surprize! However  I admit to feeling more of my old self, instead of the miserable invalid I had morphed into. Now this wonder drug does have a couple of side effects. #1, it will put you to sleep. Be in bed before you take it, as there is a reasonable chance you won't make it to bed if you dawdle. #2, it increases your appetite, thence making you less of a skeletal creature. 

I am addicted.