PaRK CiTY

Park City, Utah. My place of abode for the next month or so. Work, Run, Ride, Write, Read, Walk, Explore, Sleep - with an occasional camp out. I am looking forward to June.

Cannon Beach reminds me of Porto de Galinhas in Pernambuco, Brazil. The layout is very similar with the small, eclectic shops and restaurants with roads leading right up to the beach front. I love the style. The biggest difference, besides food and language, is water temperature. Oregon = cold water, Pernambuco = warm water. Ahhh to warm water. Any and all of you would LOVE Porto de Galinhas! And I am always delighted to be a guide.

Back to Cannon Beach.

So Natalie and I spent our last morning at CB flying a kite, skipping the shoreline, gathering stones, and whatnot. Before we left we walked around the small shops with their hidden courtyards - in search of a fruit smoothie. What we found was a delightful cafe! It's owned by an artist, therefore the interior is awesome! - Hues of golds and reds with neat painting techniques. It's just one of those places you want to stay and sit awhile...it even had a table with chess set up - one bishop missing...sorry white.

My favorite part were the little army men found on top of the door frames, picture frames - and other places. One by one, they appeared, until you noticed that you were indeed...surrounded! It was captivating and reminded me of my younger brothers at Christmastime. It's not unusual to find army men within the boughs of the Christmas tree, or riding the camels in the Nativity scene, or up on the mantel.

I love green army men.

Rachmaninoff

The ballerina girl in her slipper shoes played the piece masterfully, and almost swan-like as she arched over the achromatic keys - delicately and thoughtfully, yet with nobility and command. (53 lights were out!)

Rachmaninoff live is a sight and a sound to behold, so deep and vibrating to the soul - it is a greatness at it's best and everyone should witness it live at least once in their life-time.

Piano Concerto No. 2 - First, Second and Third Movements. This is a piece that is a must in everyones musical library, and if you do not have it - I will happily purchase it for you! It would be best to reserve the minutes after a light evening meal to listen to this piece in it's entirety. Actually - after the evening meal - venture to take a short neighborhood walk amid the tree-lined streets of sycamores, maples, and catalpas. The chirping of birds from above, the tinkling of china from the neighbors house coming through the open window - and the light laughter of the child down the street will all act as the overture. Return home before the sun has set - you will need the natural light to settle in to your west-facing room, a cool warmth.

Sit, lean back, breath in deep, close eyes if desired, and listen.

Listen.

After the glory has passed, and the notes have stilled, and the sun has set and evening has arrived - carry the moment and a tall glass of your favorite juice to the front porch. A porch-conversation will ensue, naturally. Porch conversations are among my favorite conversations, because they usually are concerned with matters of the heart. Of course - to converse - you need someone to converse with, and I am happy to oblige.

I like grape juice.

Sunday Dinner

Every Sunday my family gathers for the evening meal. We generally have somewhere between 15 to 25 people. Fun, and sometimes crazy, times.

Tonight we had 6. So small! Mom is out of town, therefore, everyone stayed at their respective homes (except for myself). Not that we couldn't have done it without mom - but we thought we'd keep it low-key this week.

Chicken, baked potatoes, green beans, green salad and 10 minutes of Chewbacca noises (we were all poor imitators) made up our simple Sunday dinner this evening. Fun, and sometimes crazy, times.

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A good Sunday Read

FiVe DoLLaR FuN PaRT II: THe eViDeNCe!

5 Dollar Fun

Next time you are due for a car wash, select the option that includes the drier as you drive away. After the soap, water, wax, and spot-free rinse have done their job, and the drier has started it's engines, pull forward - directly below fan.

Open sun roof.

Laugh.

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If you do not have a sunroof (I am sorry), you are more than welcome to come with me next time my car needs a wash...it'll be sometime next week.

CReST KiD FoR LiFe

There are a few things that I am very particular with in life, one being my relationship with my toothpaste. I am a Crest Kid. I brush my teeth with Crest Toothpaste, and only Crest Toothpaste...mint flavored please. Yes - we are quite loyal to each other, I must say. And within the last year I have become a fan of their line with Scope integrated into the paste. :)

I find that a lot of people are loyal to a certain toothpaste. What's yours?

PoeTRY NiGHT

Tonight is poetry night at my parent house.

Everyone gathers and shares 1 to 3 poems, original or otherwise.

For the past week and a half I have been anticipating this evening, and as I came over with the intentions of participating, I find myself in the other room...away from the sounds of words deliciously composed.

Work is the monkey on my back.

Good thing I really like monkeys.

Next poetry night, count me in.

Count me in!


A Sunset by Victor Hugo

I love the evenings, passionless and fair, I love the evens,
Whether old manor-fronts their ray with golden fulgence leavens,
In numerous leafage bosomed close;
Whether the mist in reefs of fire extend its reaches sheer,
Or a hundred sunbeams splinter in an azure atmosphere
On cloudy archipelagos.

Oh, gaze ye on the firmament! a hundred clouds in motion,
Up-piled in the immense sublime beneath the winds' commotion,
Their unimagined shapes accord:
Under their waves at intervals flame a pale levin through,
As if some giant of the air amid the vapors drew
A sudden elemental sword.

The sun at bay with splendid thrusts still keeps the sullen fold;
And momently at distance sets, as a cupola of gold,
The thatched roof of a cot a-glance;
Or on the blurred horizon joins his battle with the haze;
Or pools the blooming fields about with inter-isolate blaze,
Great moveless meres of radiance.

Then mark you how there hangs athwart the firmament's swept track,
Yonder a mighty crocodile with vast irradiant back,
A triple row of pointed teeth?
Under its burnished belly slips a ray of eventide,
The flickerings of a hundred glowing clouds in tenebrous side
With scales of golden mail ensheathe.

Then mounts a palace, then the air vibrates--the vision flees.
Confounded to its base, the fearful cloudy edifice
Ruins immense in mounded wrack;
Afar the fragments strew the sky, and each envermeiled cone
Hangeth, peak downward, overhead, like mountains overthrown
When the earthquake heaves its hugy back.

These vapors, with their leaden, golden, iron, bronzèd glows,
Where the hurricane, the waterspout, thunder, and hell repose,
Muttering hoarse dreams of destined harms,--
'Tis God who hangs their multitude amid the skiey deep,
As a warrior that suspendeth from the roof-tree of his keep
His dreadful and resounding arms!

All vanishes! The Sun, from topmost heaven precipitated,
Like a globe of iron which is tossed back fiery red
Into the furnace stirred to fume,
Shocking the cloudy surges, plashed from its impetuous ire,
Even to the zenith spattereth in a flecking scud of fire
The vaporous and inflamèd spaume.

O contemplate the heavens! Whenas the vein-drawn day dies pale,
In every season, every place, gaze through their every veil?
With love that has not speech for need!
Beneath their solemn beauty is a mystery infinite:
If winter hue them like a pall, or if the summer night
Fantasy them starre brede.

a 12 hour shift

She put her head into her hands and just sat there.

I looked up from my dirty hands, “It's okay – go ahead and cry if you need to. It's good to cry. It's all I have been doing these past few months.”

She looked so tired and worn as she looked up with moist eyes. “I'll be all alone. All alone.”

“Do you mind if I ask if the doctors have given him any kind of time?”

“They said he had 8 to 10 years, and that was 8 years ago.”

“I am so sorry.”

“I haven't had a break in five years – I haven't been able to go anywhere. My day starts at 3:30 am, I work two jobs, seven days a week. Then I come home to run this house and take care of him. I worry about him all day. Sometimes the breathing gets really hard. And then I am over at my parents new house for three hours everyday supervising the construction. I am so - tired.”

Kneeling on the lawn I picked up the plant next to me and loosened it from its container.

“How did you meet your husband?”

A soft smile came across her face. “I was walking down the streets of Provo and he was the sound guy for this rock band...” She laughed. “We dated 5 years before getting married...it was hard at first, but we've been married 23 years now. I love him so much. He treats me so well” Her voice started to shake again. “He calls me doodlebug.”

I smiled.

“Sometimes he'll call just to tell me that I am his best friend.”

I smiled again, “It's good to love and to be loved.”

“There is nothing better than to be able to trust and love someone and to feel it in return.”

I rinsed my hands off with the garden hose and the evening ended with a hug.

“You are so great. Hang in there. I'll call you Monday about the other pots.”

“Have a goodnight.”

“You too.”

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I know I have said many times before that I love my job - working out of doors with plants, creating spaces using art and design, continuous study and learning... I have often referred to it as an adventure. But perhaps the most fulfilling part, the real adventure – is the relationship that is built between a me and my client. For that reason alone I love the residential corner and don't miss the commercial too much. I love working with the homeowner! I love being in their homes and learning about their families, their jobs, their kids and dogs names, summer plans and what matters most to them. Whenever I find myself complaining about my job - I really should put myself in a corner for a few minutes. Even if I do have to do my own book keeping.

A Wedding? A Wedding!

A few weeks ago Kevin popped the question and Kimberly said YeS! They shall be married July 15th in the Salt Lake Temple - and then off to New York City where they will live for a good while.

I am super excited for another summer wedding...flowers, colors, dresses, table clothes, center pieces, temple square, runners, lights, pictures, cake, dinner, music, dancing...

Kimberly is four years younger than I and returned home last summer from Costa Rica where she served a mission. She's studying family history at the Y, loves her family and a good baseball game. I couldn't be more thrilled for her. She's such a fantastic person and deserves the best.

Love you KimBo! (Hey! When are we watching Field of Dreams in the backyard - or in the middle of a baseball field??)

Mae

She is more precious than rubies: and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her...Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her: and happy is every one that retaineth her.

Proverbs

HaPPY MoTHeR'S DaY MoM! You are amazing. I hope to be like you when I grow up...you really are a GouRMeT.

P.S. - If anybody has a craving for creme brulee - stop on by...we have plenty. Kip and Bethany - BRaVo!

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

"You climb the mountain in an equilibrium between restlessness and exhaustion. Then, when you’re no longer thinking ahead, each footstep isn’t just a means to an end but a unique event in itself. This leaf has jagged edges. This rock looks loose. From this place the snow is less visible, even though closer. These are things you should notice anyway. To live only for some future goal is shallow. It’s the sides of the mountain which sustain life, not the top. Here’s where things grow.

But of course, without the top you can’t have any sides. It’s the top that defines the sides. So on we go — we have a long way — no hurry — just one step after the next — with a little Chautauqua for entertainment --. Mental reflection is so much more interesting than TV it’s a shame more people don’t switch over to it. They probably think what they hear is unimportant but it never is."

This is a passage from Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a book I read a few years ago, and as soon as I finish a certain read, I shall shift gears and re-read this book, a book that would make anyone think. It is a great spring read. Really. I am excited to see what I will learn this 2nd time around...that's the beauty of reading a book more than once, you continue to learn and see new ideas, themes and thoughts.

Aquick synopsis from Wickipedia:if you are interested.

TeaRS

The Soul Would Have No Rainbow If The Eyes Had No Tears

~From My Blank Page Book


I have been thinking about tears lately.

While growing up I was known for my tears that were the result of laughing too hard. Those who know me the best know these tears. Sometimes I'd just think of something so hilarious (or tell my ridiculous 2nd grade fat man joke) and start laughing uncontrollably until I was completely exhausted from crying so hard.

I think those were the only tears I cried then. Then I grew up.

Now I might be better known for my tears of sadness. The past few years I have cried more than all those 20+ years put together! Especially nowadays. As I fall asleep - I cry, as I talk on the phone to my sister about road bikes - I cry, as I wander around my apartment cleaning - I cry!

Emotional tears are healthy they say. They relieve stress, balance hormones, repair us emotionally...they really should consider adding it to the list of "The top ten ways to live a healthy life."

TaG You'Re iT!

I have a habit of leaving the tags on my clothes. Sometimes I will leave tags on for days, weeks...whatever.

Last fall while I was working on a project, I was in the project managers office composing an email. As I was hunched over my laptop he asked, "Do you have a tattoo on your back?" "No....................................................."

?

Later that night as I was getting ready for bed I realized that I had been wearing a new shirt, a white shirt - and the oh-so colorful tag that was bright and shiny and colorful and larger than a normal was somewhat apparent...apparently...ha.

Photos from the Oregon Japanese Garden have been updated

CaNNoN BeaCH II

To sleep and to rise to the ocean is so contenting. I wouldn't mind waking up everyday and starting out with a brief stroll along the shoreline...and then at the end of a long day - find myself back to where waves carry your worries out to sea.

This morning we spent time on the shore...being as early as it was we didn't see a lot of other venturers, just a few runners and thinkers. Probably a good thing since I was still in my pj's!


Good Morning Oregon.


Good Morning Sunshine!








Natalie didn't want to skip...


When I am on the road - adventuring...I like to journey, and stay a while in one spot...rather than the rush, rush, rush of a tight schedule. I aim to feel like I have experienced a place. And sometimes it doesn't take multiple hours or days to achieve this. Sometimes it's just napping or sitting on a piece of driftwood for a few minutes to create the moment.



Sit Awhile


One of my motivations for going to Cannon Beach was to fly a kite. It just sounded like a good combination. Cannon Beach and Kites.

CaNNoN BeaCH I

Cannon Beach = wonderful! We spent the late afternoon walking the shoreline, looking out across the waves and admiring the sea life. It was a rather low tide, so we were able to walk out to the rocks. I do love the sea and am quite content in it's presence.

Haystack Rock





I find it interesting that these starfish naturally compliment each other color-wise, you see that a lot in nature...take a lesson from the Master Designer.



See the anemone?

aSToRia

Astoria, Oregon is a nice place, almost quaint. A little different from what I thought it would be. Natalie and I enjoyed the houses the most, so we spent a little time driving up and down the steep hills taking pictures (hence some of the pics are a little crooked). We were charmed with every turn. Here are just a few of the homes of Astoria...it kind of reminded me of the Avenues in Salt Lake City. Utah needs more places like this - life, color and personality - and so GReeN!

Apple Dapple Wapple


Fisherman's Hornpipe


Aunt Jane's Famous Cupcakes


I counted 162, she counted 160...


Apricot Blossoms


The Brits


"Oh Look At That Doggy In The Window" (There are so many dog owners in NW Oregon!)


I Wonder What It Looks Like Inside


Ms. Victoria will be down in a moment...


35 Knots


Red Steps...I Am Home


Hide and Seek


Square and Squares


Pelican


Boo Radley


Paint Bucket



Seaside Seashell