Dogs and Dragonflies

Seahorses and eagle rays, oh my!

2012-01-27T20:47:00.000-08:00

The doctor said I'd likely have to miss a few days of diving... well, I showed him! :) Started the day with a shore dive; my new warm water fins are too small, even without a toe injury. While I got them on, they were too tight to be comfortable. After finagling with the dive shop for a bit, I got a nice pair of very roomy fins from Seac which are awesome; I like them even better than the ones I bought; they are stiffer all the way through the blade, and allow for a passable frog kick, which the ones I bought do not.

A great relaxing morning of shore diving, hanging out, and then lunch and on the boat to San Francisco wall, followed by a nice long, leisurely stroll across Paradiso. Beautiful fish too numerous to name, of note were spotted eagle rays and seahorses, two things on our list to find. Yippee!

I learned there is no first aid or medic at the Cozumel airport.

2012-01-26T22:09:00.000-08:00

I was elated to find our forced-to-check-at-the-gate carry on bags almost first on the carousel at the Cozumel airport. Plucking one of those off, I next went for my suitcase, a hard-bottomed and fairly large ScubaPro bag that held all my dive gear and clothes. The weight and heft of the bag caught my exhausted self by surprise, so I boffed the execution. As I heaved it off the belt, it slammed right into my right great toe; not down on it but more at it from the front.

Damn, that hurt! When I looked down I understood why: the bag had totally and cleanly ripped the toenail off. It remained attached at the very bottom of the nail bed, and was pointing up at a 90 degree angle to its usual position.

That's one way to ruin a pedicure.

In one of those moments where you are looking at something, but don't quite GET what you are looking at, I bent down and flopped the nail back and forth a bit with my finger, amazed that it really didn't hurt. (Oh, that was short lasting.) Seeing the nail bed kinda made me want to barf, and I realized that yes, I'd just ripped my big toenail clean off, as blood starts to fill my Birkenstock.

We'd been up for two days straight, after a pretty exhausting week that led up to the start of this vacation. The flights were long, the layovers longer, and we'd spent two hours on the tarmac in Houston while a large number of flights were rerouted due to some significant weather events in the Gulf of Mexico. We'd landed in Coz and were ready to head to our hotel for a gallon of water and a nap.

Now I needed a doctor... in Mexico. Scot asked airport staff if there was a medic; the alarmed response was no, we'd have to go to the clinic downtown. No problem, we'll take a cab... only problem is, you can't get a simple single outgoing cab at the airport, you have to wait for the big cattle vans that go to hotels... and they won't make another stop for you.

Seriously!? WTF.

This wasn't life or death situation, nor were we making a big deal about it. Everyone that looks at my face knows something's up and I tell them and before I can say, "Don't look," they look down at my foot and say, "Oh, gross!" My initial assessment of, "Huh, that doesn't really hurt that much," had turned into, "Would someone just cut the toe off, this is freaking hurting." By the time we get into a van I was getting grumpy and less enamored with the laid back Mexican way of doing things.

We get to Blue Angel and our travel buddies take our bags for us, and Scot asks the front desk for the best clinic to go to just in case there is an option (I don't think there is). The front desk person looks alarmed, gives him a card, and I hail a taxi. In broken Spanish Scot talks to the driver, who looks at my foot and freaks out.

We arrive at the clinic, walk in, and the receiptionist looks at my foot, looks out the window and says, "There's the doctor, he'll help you." We walk into a room, the doctor looks at me as I try to pull my foot out of my sandal without disturbing the toe with Nailzilla sticking up, and has me sit on the little bed while I explain what happened.

What surprised me the most was that the people were interested in me and my problem... not one question about payment, no forms, no bullshit, nothing as it would be in the USA.

We're laughing and joking (and I'm throwing some whining now and then too because it's really freaking hurting now and he's poking around trying to see what's up). He says it's good I'm taking it all in good humor. Because unfortunately, it's the bottom of the nail bed, where it's still attached, that actually really hurts. Gee... thanks.

Two injections for numbing that hurt like hell -- "It'll just feel like a bee sting," my ass! Felt like my toe was going to explode. He cleans the area, pokes around a bit. I swear this takes forever. I've been hiding my face in Scot's shirt since the injections; he makes sure the area is numb and then pulls the nail free. GAG. I can't help but look now and IT'S SO GROSS.

He doesn't give me any limitations, but laughs at my comments that I'll get in the water for a checkout dive that night. He suggests I might miss a few days of diving. I disagree with his assessment and he chuckles. What followed while he wrote his note was an awesome conversation about everything from opioid abuse in the US to the cultural differences about health care and pain to the specifics of Hispanic compound names. Awesome guy... and really hot, too; always an important qualification for your health care professionals. I mentioned Dr. Piccolo; that's the man you see for chamber rides if you get bent in Coz. This lead to a conversation about attitudes about diving, and the local tragedy that rocked the island last year, a totally avoidable diving accident amongst professionals.

About an hour total, and it wasn't as cheap as you'd think; $200, plus another $55 at MEGA for four rx's (ointment, antibiotic, two pain meds [neither of which I've used]).

I asked how long it would take for the local to wear off; about four hours he says. So over the afternoon, I notice how it's not that the toe hurts... but the sensation on that exposed tissue is so foreign that it's annoying like nails on a chalkboard.

After happy hour, Scot passes out from exhaustion in our room while I unpack, and then gear up for a quick checkout dive to test my weights and this whole toe thing. The water doesn't bother it at all; I feared the saltwater would hurt. But using warm water fins leaves me without booties in a very sharp rocky entrance, and that hurts like hell. I'm ginger with that foot, so I'm not very steady and the entrance is a little rough due to surf and some rocks.

The ironic truth is, if I hadn't tried to save weight in my baggage, and just used my rock boots and trusty Hollis F1s, I wouldn't have had a problem in the water. But I can't get the slim fitting warm water fin on the bad foot. At least not bobbing in the water. It will be less of a problem on the boat, I think. We don't go out until tomorrow afternoon so we'll see then.

I ran around with it exposed so it could dry all evening after I exited the water. It didn't hurt. I put more ointment and gauze on it and NOW its hurting like a sonofabitch but I may have taped it too tight!

Worse case scenario, I'm in Cozumel and have to miss a day of diving. Or two. That wouldn't make me happy, but in the scheme of things... I think I'll survive.

Yes, I have phone pictures but I'm not posting them. :)

Wandering Oregon.

2011-12-31T18:54:00.000-08:00

Friday night, Scot and I set off for dinner. A celebration of sorts after a very bizarre December, we were wanting to spend some time and just relax. I planned to take him out to The Bread Board in Falls City. We poked around End of the Road Antiques next door just before they closed the doors at 6pm. Then we needed over to my beloved The Bread Board.

I'm a big fan of The Bread Board but must say, upon arriving and seeing a nearly empty dessert case and pizzas that were now $23 per pie... we left. That's really hard to say because I love these guys, and what they've built. But $23 for a rustic style pizza (which is thin crust, light sauce, and very spare toppings)? That's a marked increase from the last time I was there, and it just didn't sit well with me.

So we headed back to Salem, figuring we'd head through Monmouth and hit up the Indian place downtown that we loved... and we found that it was closed, and apparently has been for some time as there's something else in its place now. Whoops! (Our last year has been a little hectic, to say the least, and we've got different plans for 2012 let's just say.)

We hit main street in Independence... the pizza place is under a new name, and the little Mexican place on the corner is now a different cafe. See what happens when you aren't looking!? We decided to try Ragin' River, and it was an excellent call. See my long missive on EatSalem.com for the mouth watering details.

Take this time to reflect and plan.

2011-12-26T13:26:00.000-08:00

With the flurry of hopes, joys and responsibilities of the holidays over, the winter lies calm and cold here in the Pacific Northwest. (But not yet wet, really.) Time to sit back with your favorite beverage -- a tea, coffee, or cider. Pull out a page, and think back over 2011. Jot down the big things, the stand-out highlights, and the things which seemed little but have caused significant ripples in your life this past year. The planned, the unexpected... all of it.

For most of us life is so busy, like a rushing river. At first it's hard to grab onto anything; the past is a blur. Review your calendar as a memory trigger. Or go through the Sent folder of your email. Anything that helps you see the flow of events these past 12 months.

Chances are, you'll find this time to be relaxing, grounding, and enlightening as you realize you really did a lot... when chances are you had forgotten a fair amount of it before starting this little exercise, and instead focused on the lingering items on the to do list.

What did you think you wanted that fell short? What did you never expect that had a great positive impact on your soul?

With that mindset, jot down some goals and directions for 2012. This often starts as broad general philosophical directions, but work to hone these down to specific tenants and action items that make them a reality. Iterating the process is often necessary; start with the philosophical thought, then ask, "How would I DO that?" Continue to ask, "How would I DO that?" until you end up with a few key milestones, and their component steps.

Add an item or two from the bucket list -- and mean it. Set a frame and structure onto which you will build 2012.

This is the year to do something which you have feared. Time to cut out habits that eat up your time but don't enrich your life. Let drift off those people who are somewhat toxic, while giving more attention to that person that always enriches your life in small ways. Is it the time to trade checking Facebook ten times a day for coffee with someone who means something to you once a week? Turn in a few hours of video games for volunteer time with a local organization that is in line with your world vision.

Time to carve a bit of time out for yourself, just to be your awesome, beautiful self every so often.

Too often life seems to happen to us, as we get swept up in the various responsibilities we juggle. Being reactive leaves you feeling out of control and unsatisfied... even if the drift of the stream is taking you in the same general direction you'd go if you were proactively paddling.

So grab that paddle and steer your boat with purpose and forethought.

You may now call me Cheesemaker.

2011-12-18T07:20:00.000-08:00

And no, this has nothing to do with sports. Rather, after 2 years* hidden in the cupboard, out came Ricki's Cheese Making Kit and a true intent to create some cheese. (*OK, maybe it's 3 years. Not sure).

Issues such as food, its quality, price, sustainability and the "you can only pick two out of those three" realities are frequent thoughts lately. (For instance, I'd really like to go all-local, humane and sustainable meat. But that's another post.)

Cheesemaking isn't hard, but there are some real simple basics that can trip you up. To make cheese takes whole milk that isn't ultra-pasteurized (a higher heat process allowing milk to be trucked cross country and have sell by dates a month or more into the future), as most commercial milk is. One can find some milk that is simply pasteurized (lower temperature process), or you can use whole raw milk... if you can find it.

Figuring I'd go all the way this first time, I returned to where the kit had come from: Kookoolan Farms in Yamhill, OR. They are one of the very few outlets where you can find raw cow's milk; you wouldn't believe the regulations that forbid one from getting a simple natural product (all in the guise of protecting public health; let's not forget that for millennia this is how all milk was consumed. But our modern food system requires that milk be processed and stabilized for long trips and month-away sell by dates). After checking the hours of their unique self-serve farm store, the pups were loaded into the Beetle and we headed into a drab and foggy Willamette Valley Saturday late morning.

The drive contained side trips to oogle a nifty old church in Dayton, the water park at McMinnville, a cemetery, some wine tasting in Carlton... at each stop the dogs were less amused. After stopping at the farm to pick up two half gallons of raw milk and some other goodies, I heading back, making a detour at Willamette Valley Cheese's tasting room. The reality of the farm is there in full force; you drive down a muddy road past large shelters with lounging dairy cows, dirty and smelly as cows are. Even for someone who grew up in the midwest and is somewhat educated on the realities of where our food comes from, it had me wishing for the aesthetics of Whole Foods Market. Kudos to the staff who were there; they curated a great experience, suggesting things that I'd like, but also recognizing and suggesting I try things they had guessed I wouldn't like because of the elements that would be illustrated by doing so.

Once home, I went to work. Making fresh mozzarella is really, really easy. Despite not keeping the renett tablets in the freezer as the instructions stated (remember... we're talking 2-3 years here) they did their magic. And magic it is, really. Dissolve 1/4 renett tablet in 1/4 cup of water, small amount of citric acid in another bit of water. Warm milk and citric acid to 90 degrees, pour in renett, let sit for 5 minutes covered.

Not looking for five minutes almost killed me. Then, lifting the lid, the surface looked... not quite liquid. Tentatively I reached out to the edge, attempting to mimic the picture in the instructions showing the ability to pull a semi solid mass away from the edge of the stainless steel pot.

My hands touched something that felt utterly amazing, like touching a cloud. Warm and amazingly soft, it had worked! I had curd! A joyful shriek came out of my mouth as if I'd just created life itself. With the longest knife I had, I cut the curd, returned it to the heat, and alternated between stirring it and rushing around the kitchen to prepare the items needed for the next step (next time this will be done in advance).

Stir -- run to cupboard to get bowl out. Stir -- put bowl under water. Stir -- put ice in bowl. Stir -- get out colander. Stir -- get out bowl for colander to collect whey.

Straining the curd from the whey, I folded the curd a few times (what an amazing feeling) and let it sit as the whey was returned to the heat to 185 degrees. An error on my part was not having food grade rubber gloves. To get the best experience stretching and folding the cheese, you do it under the surface of the hot whey. That's impossible without gloves. I tried, and while not actually scalding, liquid that temperature hurts like hell. Dividing the curds up into one small and one larger blob, I worked them out of the whey, folding, stretching and kneading until it firmed up and became glossy. Salt was added in sparing amounts, and the possibilities of adding herbs, dried Italian meats, garlic, etc. ran through my head but this wasn't the time. Perfect the basics, first.

After just a few minutes of working, the cheese was firm and beautiful. I dropped the balls into ice water and they set.

Upon tasting, the project was deemed a great success. The flavor is awesome; mild as a fresh moz should be, but a little richer than most store bought. I'd add the recommended amount of salt next time, and probably spice it up with some herbs and what not. I'll be melting this on various dishes, and will use a garlic/salt grind on it probably.

Fun fun.

Let's get down to the brass tacks of this issue: is it worth it? You can get a one lb ball of fresh mozzarella for $6.99 at Safeway (often less). Kookoolan Farm's raw milk costs... sit down for this... $9 for a half gallon. That includes a $3 deposit for the jars w/ reusable lids, so on return trips the milk would only be... gulp... $12 per gallon. I've never tasted raw milk and I admit I couldn't bring myself to drink any of it. Silly, huh? I'll eat anything from anywhere, and I'll eat cheese I made with raw milk... but raw milk is a stopper for me. Maybe next time... I'm not a milk person anyway, oddly enough. (Not milk but yes to cheese; not cucumbers but yes to pickles; not tomatoes but yes to ketchup...)

Next time I'm going to try a local organic dairy pasteurized whole milk; that'll bring the cost down to about $6/gallon. The cost of the kit is around $20 but has enough stuff in it for 30 batches of moz or ricotta. (That's next!) Might have to nix the organic part -- organic dairies tend to ultrapasteurize, from what I've read.

So you won't be saving money--you'll come up about even using store bought pasteurized milk, but the experience is fun, and would be a great one to share with friends. And if you have your own culinary spin on things to try, definitely worth it. Sundried tomatoes! Basil! Prosceutto! OMG!

Thankful for modern technology in the skincare industry.

2011-11-20T19:57:00.000-08:00

About twice a year I have a little fun at Sephora. A few weeks ago I deftly avoided the Hello Kitty perfume line, but came away with a little bag of goodies, all but one have proven to be awesome. (And the one that wasn't, was returnable; that's one thing I enjoy about Sephora, and it frees you to really try things without worry. It was the blue mascara from Buxom; it never dawned on me it wouldn't be waterproof, and thanks to watery eyes from allergies waterproof is NOT an option.)

There's one amazing product that deserves mention. I feel like such a shillin' tool, but... seriously, this stuff WORKS for a problem that before never really had a solution.

Benefit's POREfessional is a lightly tinted base that you swipe over areas in which you'd like to see a reduction in pore size. You use an amazingly small amount, so the tube should last a while. (And, this isn't cheap.) You then apply makeup as usual. And... it works. Using the word amazing seems a bit out of place, but it's awesome. After a few weeks it hasn't bothered my somewhat sensitive skin, or caused any other type of problem. While it's just a cover, the situation even without makeup seems somewhat improved, too, somehow.

Diving up north. Just a little farther up north.

2011-11-14T05:06:00.000-08:00

Friday night, we set out to find the Pacific Spiny Lumpsucker. An adorable little fish I'd never seen, but favored with such ardor it had become a joke. Earlier this year at a ScubaPro seminar in Seattle, someone I didn't know from three rows back passed up their cell phone, with instructions to show me the photo on the screen: an adorable lumpsucker. I looked back to see three rows of smiling, laughing divers, all involved in the tease.

Bastards. ;)

Well, there's nothing more to tease me about! (LOL) Arriving at Redondo and in the water around 7pm, we dropped down a whole 10 ft into the eel grass beds to the north of Salty's, it took me just a minute to find one of the darlings on the outer edge of the grass bed.

See a photo of the lovely first to be found, taken by Stephen Wood.

There were many more, from so teeny you could barely notice them to a substantial golf ball size.

Such a simple, focused dive led to discoveries of many great critters in the area. An easy dive means lack of movement, though, and I found myself getting colder by the minute. At 48 minutes, my hands were so cold they'd gone through the numb phase and had started to burn, a new sensation. Signalling my departure, I held court at the van talking about the water with an endless string of locals until my buddies came up some after some 70plus minutes for total dive time. An awesome start to a great weekend.

Conditions and circumstances squelched the diving a little bit, however.

The next day the fine folks at Anacortes Diving and Supply filled our tanks and tipped us that despite a great small exchange, our destination of Keystone was not divable due to high winds (40mph the day before, 25mph on this day). We went by the site anyway, and while two of us were like, "Yeah, let's do it," our friend in the know said, "It's not divable, period" and the we whimpered away in defeat. (This is the fourth time now I've been blown out of this dive.) One of the women at Anacortes had told us to join them over at Langley, however, for some dusk/night dives. We made our way over there, and found a good sized parking lot, easy entry (small stairs OR boat ramp onto a narrow sand beach), and great facilities (restrooms and hot showers). None of the three of us diving together had been to the site.

This was a night dive by the time we got under the water; the third in our group of Muskateers had a fatal error with a drysuit zipper that pulled him out of the water before his fun got started. He sadly relegated himself to shore support.

The directions to the site were easy: the site is past the floating cement breakwater. Something about the simple looking site is disorienting; we can usually just sight it, drop down and go. After one fail with this method we popped up, swam over to the breakwater, got a bearing and dropped.

We found a rope while scouring the flat sandy bottom for critters. Almost immediately a very curious and calm ratfish of medium size was with us, and allowed us plenty of time for great shots of him. Shortly after, I found the tiniest baby red octo in the sand, and played with him for quite some time. Next was a sailfin sculpin... good stuff, and all before we GET to the real feature. The spread out blocks holding down the rope were like little towns along a country road, each holding a few interesting residents.

Following the line for what seemed like a while, I scanned the sides again and saw this huge, looming behemoth that is the tire reef. I was thinking a few tires laid down in the sand, maybe stacked one or two up... but no, this is a huge tangle of tires going up and down, undulating like a huge mat of tire madness. So many pockets, holes, ins and outs that you could spend days looking. An impressive number of large fish of various types, too.

Here's a link to a sidescan sonar of the site, showing just how huge it is.
First time there, at night... it was a little spooky! There are some projections that come straight out of it, too; huge logs/poles that extend long and tall. Lots of life on all of it. And I saw some LARGE crab carcases around (and there are OODLES of crab, too), so there HAS to be a good sized octo there, but how in the heck you'd ever find him I don't know. :) Can't wait to dive it again, hopefully in the daytime with good viz to get a better feel for it.

Simply the best image ever.

2011-11-09T19:30:00.000-08:00

No finer use of form, color and technology has ever been accomplished.

Nor will it ever be surpassed.

Enjoying the fall diving in the PNW.

2011-11-06T22:03:00.000-08:00

As a diver in Salem, OR, I've come to terms with the joys of a day trip up and back to the Puget Sound. While some say, "You drove four hours up to get in just over two hours of diving, then drove four hours back?" I say, "Hell yes!" I'm blessed with a few good friends and dive buddies who make the trip pass by like minutes, and with visibility as it is this fall...

Doesn't hurt that my little car gets a good 40 mpg highway. If I take a picnic lunch it costs less than a great many things I could do to waste a Saturday away... and is a hell of a lot more fun.

Yesterday the Diesel Dive Bug headed to a dive site near Gig Harbor, followed by Titlow. The former is a little gem, one I've sworn to keep secret. A leisurely, quiet gear-up put me in a very zen state before even hitting the water. The serene underwater landscape was peppered with gigantic fat pink Tritonia nudibranchs, orange sea pens (from large to teensy weensy) and striped nudis mating all over the place. Coiled bundled of their eggs laid about like tumbleweeds, and eelgrass encountered near the end of the dive was covered with small nudis, some so small I deemed to call them nudi-bits.

Oh, and did I mention the visibility? Awesome. Not like, "Oh yeah, we've got at least 15" when you know damn well it's barely 10. This is more like, "I'll call it 30 only because people will think I'm crazy if I say something like 50, maybe even 60."

The beautiful fall day, the zen of the dive, and the subtle energy of one of my favorite dive buddies put me in an amazing state of mind. AND THERE WERE CORGIS! Two corgis ran out of the landscape edging one of the homes beside the beach access we were using, and greeted us before and after our dive. How awesome is that!?

We headed to our second site for the day, Titlow. In my time underwater, most visits have been made to the tried and true sites which are less current dependent, leaving a lot of sites along the narrows and other areas undiscovered. The plan was to hit the site at the slack around high tide in the afternoon. It was a high high tide, the result of an 8 foot swap, and going into a larger one for the next low tide. After moseying over to the site, sitting in the car and enjoying a little lunch and then gearing up again... we were well into two hours post peak. Entering the water there was not really a noticeable current.

55 minutes later... and it's a rodeo.

Going from the cathedral to shore took us about 10 minutes of crawling along the rocks. My buddy suggested surfacing at 10 ft and I declined, planning to not break the surface until I could stand... and good thing because even standing took a little strategy as the current was pulling out so hard. Given that I don't like current (unless we're talking about Cozumel and a live boat pickup), it was a great dive, and it's one more data point to put in my hat of, "Just what does this set of conditions result in?"

But wow... what a site! The highlight was an ADORABLE little grunt sculpin Stephen found. So tiny, and so well hidden, it was quite the find. Both dives were undertaken with the GoPro on my head, and the video is pretty good thanks to good visibility and some sunlight. Hopefully I'll get to piece together some of the highlights into a little something I'll throw up on Vimeo.

Doin' Time in the Channel Islands

2011-10-23T17:40:00.000-07:00

Blue Element Scuba led a trip to the Channel Islands aboard the Truth, the first vessel in the liveaboard fleet of Truth Aquatics. Her sister ships Conception and Vision are larger, but the ships are all very similar in fit and offerings. We ran a limited load with 12 divers doing a 3 day trip to the north islands.

Great dives, great people, great time. Weather was grey most of the time, and foggy on the last day, but conditions were dry up top so who can complain?

We enjoyed great service and hospitality from Captain Davey Woodland and crew: 2nd Captain Peter, crewman Brandon, and galley chefs Larissa and Windy. All were fun, friendly, and helpful in whatever way we needed.

We dove a variety of sites over the three days, finding places to please spearfisherman, bug (lobster) hunters, and those taking scallops as well as those just there for the underwater beauty. From flats to great structure, kelp to clear waters, calm coves to ripping currents, we found a little bit of everything.

This was my second visit to the Channel Islands, and this trip bore out some wishes I'd held for a long time, as well as unexpected highlights:

An amazing set of underwater interactions with a very friendly California sealion, assumedly female. (See some great photos from sealions in the area a friend took a few years ago. Alas, I didn't get any of ours.) She visited our small group of divers half a dozen times, coming face to face with us, peering curiously at us and with us, and displaying her amazing underwater abilities to our great pleasure. In addition to this, we had many drive-bys on multiple other sea lions on other dives. Laurie and Debbie called her a diva, and that's just what she was.
A peek into the Painted Cave on Santa Cruz Island. Captain Davey slid the Truth into the large mouth, way back into the narrowing cave as far as he could. It was an amazing feat of boating (then again so was parking back at dock into a space that was just inches bigger than the vessel itself). We slid by craggy rock walls, past a plateau that held a family of sea lions, saw the colorful pillars deeper within the cave, and peered down into crystal clear water under the boat.
After a first night's dive after dark, they left the squid light installed on the side of the boat. Debbie woke me just before midnight to ask if I wanted to see a show. The light draws an amazingly large school of small fish (like sardines), which in turn drew sea lions. As we watched the number of these puppy like creatures grow from a dozen to more than 40, they rolled, spun and played like children as they snacked on an easy meal. You could almost reach over the side of the boat and touch them.
And then the dolphins came. First we saw just four fins off the starboard side of the bow, staying a distance away from the boat, then there were six, then eight, then... by the time I went to bed around 2am, there were about two dozen dolphins, and they were regularly coming very close to the boat. My fellow divers had called off for bed around 12:30am, but I couldn't leave. Having burned out my Sola light, I switched to my backup and went to the top deck of the boat. Facing the starboard side, where I could see sea lions and dolphins (which stayed at the bow and on the starboard side). So tired, I eventually laid my light on the rail, and my head on top of the light... when I found myself dozing off to sleep I realized it was time for bed. I couldn't make the task any easier than it was, and if I couldn't hack that, it was time to say goodnight. Going below to my bunk on the starboard side of the boat, I heard the unmistakable sounds of the dolphins communicating just outside the boat. I pressed my ear to the wall, and fell asleep listening to them as they talked. There was one specific call that came repeatedly, and at specific times, almost as if it was the coordination of the activity where the group would break, circle the fish, then dart through the ball.

It looks like an alien. But it's actually a salp.

Along the way I found the coolest thing underwater -- a salp, which is an amazing prehistoric looking beast that you assume will be jelly-like, but is actually like frail but hard plastic -- like a child's empty plastic Easter egg. Inside you can see what appears to be a delicate skeletal system. While such amazingly strange things would repel me on land, for some reason underwater I barely think twice about reaching out to pick it up, and then I kicked-ass over to Justin because my camera had fogged; the only photo I have of it is poor at best. It was about 5-6 inches long, 1-2 inches wide at the largest and had odd looking curved "horns" coming from its head. Later I learned the colonizing jellyfish I saw as we descended off the bow that morning were not jellies, but another form of these planktonic tunicates. Check out Wikipedia for more.

At one point we also found some strange bones, but have no idea what creature they were from.

The trip was worth the drive down, made all the easier by the van and driving provided by Travis and Laurie. We ended the trip with a dinner overlooking the marina in Santa Barbara as we recounted some of our adventures before hitting the road again for the 16 hour drive home. Well worth it. Already scheduling next year's trip. Come join us!

Technological quandry.

2011-10-12T06:30:00.000-07:00

There was a day when having the latest gadget was THE most important thing. It piqued my interest, established a position amongst my peers, early adoption placed me in a position to support and assist, and gave me a pleasure and joy that made the distribution of funds to acquire well worth it.

Thankfully, life's a little more diverse and complicated now, with a myriad of commitments, interests and desires that leave me conflicted in my heart, and scratching my head at an attempt to logically evaluate. (Every try to compare the three wireless carriers? Insanity.)

Decisions. At the crux of this issue is: just HOW do I use my smartphone? In light of the iPad acquisition, that's changed. In reality, my phone is a tool for txting more than calling (but that's still important as there is no land line); it's an mp3 player; it's a calendar and todo list manager most importantly.. Navigation and local information while on the go is second in importance. But I don't really run complex apps, play games, etc. As much as I WANT the new iPhone (cost $199 for 16GB, $299 for 32GB), or to move over to a DROID BIONIC ($299), might the best choice be to take a free replacement (w/ AT&T contract renewment, of course) of my current iPhone 3GS 32GB and call it good?

The cost of an upgrade or move will equal one, two or three good dive weekends in Washington. Or a pair of Grado headphones. An extra car payment. Most of a month's grocery budget. An extra bundle in savings. A little more cash under the mattress (no, we don't really keep it under a mattress). Hmmm.

My head tells me the best thing for me to do is stick with AT&T, take the replacement of my current phone and move on, placing that amount I would have, could have spent to a good cause.

My heart wants TOYS TOYS TOYS OMG NEW SHINY CLICKEY CLICKEY LOOKIT WHAT I GOT ISN'T IT SO COOL YOU DON'T HAVE ONE AREN'T YOU JEALOUS HA HA???!!!

Amazing weekend!

2011-09-25T21:36:00.000-07:00

A jam packed weekend... so much goodness, it just flew by. Good work with my best friend, husband and business partner Saturday during the day, then a surprisingly awesome concert -- Duran Duran, a serious 80's flashback!

Today headed up to Sund Rock with a friend (yeah, again, it's been that good lately). And today... the best. Saw Sea Angels (amazing... hard to describe how beautiful, the videos don't do them justice).

Octopus-o-rama. Saw octopus mating! Seriously. My dive buddy has some awesome octo-porn as a result. Then saw not one but TWO large octos sleeping out in the open in the shallows--at 27 ft and the small boat. And nudibranchs of many types galore. Fish fish fish fish. Which brought in seals. Yes, seals.

I saw this all today... and more. Amazing.

Of course, this amazing stuff comes with an unfortunate edge; the critters are coming up from the depths due to the low oxygen problems in the Hood Canal. See the data here.

Red Thai Room rises from the ashes! Alas... in California.

2011-09-06T18:32:00.000-07:00

My favorite drink not shown here. And this photo
from Red Thai Room totally stolen from
this chick.

Oh, the pleasure and the pain. Through Yelp, I received a message from Craig, owner of the once-in-Silverton Red Thai Room, my favorite restaurant of all time. It was instrumental, really, in implanting Thai as my favorite cuisine. Thai is now the go-to option whenever some eats are required, and I've driven near and far to try something rumored to be good. So far no atmosphere has topped theirs, nor the drinks... there was something alarmingly amazing about a unique little curvy glass topped with a small perfect orchid which just cannot be topped.

He let me know that Red Thai Room will once again live... but it's a little bit of a drive away in Yorba Linda, CA.

I am so headed to Disneyland. But that's just an excuse to enjoy Craig's new venture which looks to be opening January 2012. Website is partway done. Best wishes for long lasting success, my dear, you brave heart who dared to implement a "no children under six" policy. I was a fan of that because the last thing I want at a nice sexy evening out with someone is Cherrios flying over from the next booth and screams that shatter wine glasses as some self important boob fails to discipline their screaming, spewing spawn from hell. (Yes, I know there are perfectly well behaved children of all ages. Alas, good parenting is not a requirement for breeding. Come on, leave 'em at home once in a while. It's healthy for you.)

And to think, without the Internet... I'd not known. Oh, thank you intarwebs.

And we don't have more long weekends... why?

2011-09-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

Summer remains in full swing in Oregon; temps in the 90's, dry days, full sun. This made for a beautiful time to head east in search of stars.

Our frugality and practicality won out over our romantic relationship with camping. While building the mental list and beginning to pull out the gear we would need for two nights of primitive camping in the back of the pickup at 6ooo ft, it all seemed like a bit much. For a week, yes, but two nights? Groan. Running the numbers, we deduced the cost of gas in the pickup for the trip compared to the cost of gas in the Beetle was... more than a night in a hotel room if I could snag a deal on Priceline.

$60 later we were packing modest overnight backpacks and headed to Bend.

A lovely drive, perfect for talking about life, love and the pursuit of happiness between two people who have been enjoying it together and seeking more for over 22 years.

Traveling through our beautiful Oregon we enjoyed the change of scenery, but know that the green valley is our preference over the brown crisp dryness of the dessert. Bend is beautiful, and was in full swing as the active citizenry went about frolicking in the days of summer we've been gifted with. We enjoyed temps in the 90's during the day, but then discovered ourselves freezing standing out on a flat off of Pine Mountain well after midnight in 37 degree air as I got my feet wet taking long exposure shots of the stars. My head was filled with the pondering of how insignificant we are after a long evening spent at Pine Mountain Observatory.

See some visuals on Flickr.

Today I'd planned to head up to Tacoma to dive with a friend. But for the first time in my life, I slept not a wink last night. After not sleeping much Friday or Saturday, it seemed odd that I lie awake, without worry or care, but without any interest in sleeping, all night Sunday. I watched the clock with dread; I'd said if I didn't get at least three hours, I'd call off the dive because heading down to the bottle field at Redondo is not something I cared to do in less than good condition. I saw every hour and median march by. Bummer. I called my buddy at 5:30, we were to meet at 7:30 in Salmon Creek, to declare my surrender. Big bummer, I was going to christen my new tanks. But... it strongly felt like the right thing to do, and lately I've come to again appreciate that "the feeling" I get might not always be understood, but it's always right.

A shout out to John's Car Wash in Salem, OR

2011-09-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

Scot and I both buy wash cards at John's Car Wash, a great deal over paying individually. We run the metal stallions through there when they need it. (Ok, usually well past the point they need it, but better than never, eh?) To make a long story short, the attendant accidentally broke something on my car before I entered the wash. He was quick to note it, apologized profusely, had me fill out a form.

Cory in management called me the next day. We both figured this would be a $30 fix. No big deal, I said, I'd have Mike at German Motors take care of it in a week or so when I went in for an oil change (and new wiper blades... the damn blades on the Beetle are IMPOSSIBLE to put on, and I say this only after watching the service manager at DeLon try for 30 minutes after I had failed miserably the first time).

Only thing is... It's more like $300. Yikes! Regardless, Corey is making it right. He's been very helpful in getting it resolved, and that's some great service.

Accidents happen. It's what a company does in the addressing of the issue that makes or breaks their service. And John's Car Wash is on top, they are awesome.

My love/hate relationship with the concept of Pringle Creek Community

2011-08-31T18:10:00.000-07:00

I saw a job posting for Pringle Creek Community today that caught my eye. And it stirred in me a struggle I've felt many times before.

In reponse to that job posting and its relevance, I offer this. Anyone care to discuss?

Good luck in your search to find a good match for your needs. I mean that. But this boggles my mind.

Consider this: if this position were full time, it would pay $17,680/year. Post tax (take-home) of 67% of that amount would equal $987. Let's say we have two wage earners in the home. That makes household take-home pay $1974.

The monthly mortgage payment for the most modest of your cottage houses is $1066 (plus insurance, and there may be homeowners association fees, and...). That's a $240,000 home, 10% down, 4.28% interest 30 year fixed. In other words, the cheapest home there, and the best financing available.

Even with two earners at that level or anywhere near it... it would not be even remotely possible for that family to live within Pringle Creek.

That seems wrong to me. Good enough to produce your food, to help you make money through the sale of that food... but not good enough to live there? And the position calls for things way beyond basic physical labor, such as planning, organizing, teaching.

The post was great and warmed my heart until I got to the wage and then I was... taken aback. Disgusted, even.

Do you really place so little value on the production of your food?

Does sustainable have to equal elitist?

I have yet to see Pringle live up to its third principle: Encourage Social Diversity. With your lowest priced offerings coming in above the median home price in the area (and how many homes are really at that level -- most seem to be higher when I've seen those for sale), the reality isn't matching the stated goals. (I remember reading one fluff piece long ago that really rung with me, and that was something like [paraphrasing here], "Laborers living next to doctors.")

And yes... this is a bit of sour grapes -- I moved to Oregon six years ago having heard a great deal about the development. It's beautiful. I love it. I covet it. But once I stuck my nose into the project as it was developing, it struck me as yet another way for the well to do to live well.

"This totally exceeded my expectations."

2011-08-07T12:03:00.000-07:00

Since long before moving to the dazzling state of Oregon, Crater Lake's visage was known to us. Images, both those faithfully enhanced and those driven to HDR insanity (an art form I enjoy, but set separate from true-to-life capture) set very high expectations.

After waiting 20 minutes in a line at the park gatehouse to fork over our $10, we had about ten more miles to rid ourselves of expectations before coming to the edge of the Rim Road. We caught the second pull off, and...

It's stunning. Amazing. In scale, beauty and... diversity. Azure water unlike I've seen! Rimmed by trees, slides, cliffs, patches of snow... in August! A gut-punch of ravishing beauty that drives one to tears. Well, me, anyway, but I tend to overflow with the joy of life fairly often and easily.

Each pull-off gave you a different view, and it never got old, for each angle showed something not seen yet.

We had a late lunch at the lodge, which is gorgeous and relaxing, well updated and maintained. The day was leisurely, for we'd no plans other than do the Rim Road and find our way home sometime before midnight. We were there just after noon, which is unfortunately the worst light of the day for landscape photography; high and harsh, it hits at a perpendicular angle and leaves out the amazing depth that light coming across the landscape parallel creates; high noon rays also enhanced the haze that kept the distant ridge of the crater from being sharp. Morning or afternoon light would have been in order if the primary goal of this trip had been a great photograph. But my goal to work the CCD was tempered by adventuring, relaxing... and sleeping in.

Life and times, episode #14,417

2011-08-05T00:37:00.000-07:00

After seeing Rush, Facebook threw in my face that The Dear Hunter was touring, and their 2nd stop was the Hawthorne Theater in PDX. NO FUCKING WAY! I grabbed two tickets, found a friend who wanted to see them too, and away we went. That type of small venue show is an incredible contrast to the mass consumption of mainstream commercial acts in a stadium.

In short, it was awesome. A more detailed show report is here.

As luck would have it, the very next weekend Dredg was playing! The ticket was Dredg, Fair To Midland, The Trophy Fire, A Tale Through Audio.

A Tale Through Audio was interesting enough to take a listen to online; this was their first tour (and this was the first show of the tour) and they were thankful for the crowd who had come out. The Trophy Fire was really good. This judgement had been made before the drummer took his shirt off halfway through the set; afterword it just seemed all the better, but that wasn't why we bought CDs.

And Fair to Midland... uh... wow. A great deal of the crowd had come out to see them. They give the term "progressive rock"--that catch all category where you throw groups that perform advanced mixology maneuvers with their musical styles--a run for it's money. Are they alternative rock, metal, neo-psychedelic, or folk?

Yes.

All of the above and more. The lead singer Darroh Sudderth is... energetic... to say the least. I would have sworn he was tweaking hard, but a quick perusal of interviews and what not has him claiming they are not a party band, no drugs, etc. Seriously? Because his moves are... you'd think inexplicable without massive amounts of strong stimulants. He's Keith Richards, James Brown, and Brad Pitt's character from 12 Monkies thrown into a blender set to PUREE. My overall opinion was mixed, but curious enough to look 'em up. His vocal range is stunning, and I'm warming to them.

He certainly sent the crowd into a frenzy. The energy was amazing. A bit of a mosh pit formed at center stage, which put the friend I was with on edge; we were at the edge of stage right, only about 2-3 people away from the activity. The crowd jumped up and down in rhythm, and the old battered floorboards of the Hawthorne, a century old building, bowed and flexed as if the structure had a heartbeat. A stunning moment of epic clarity, washed in joyful hedonistic pleasure, firmly plants itself in my list of peak experiences.

My senses swooned in non-alcoholic intoxication.

Then... it was time. One last reset, and the show was ON. We stood at the very front because The Big Ass Fan wasn't on and I figured if we were going to sweat to death, we might as well do it right up front. (Luckily it was turned on later, and people would turn it every now and then so we got a fair share.) A very nice woman tried to squeeze up on the rail; I let her in but jokingly said, "Look, I've let three bands I DIDN'T come to see sweat on me, I'm not moving." A guy turned to me and asked where I was from; they were up from Cali, as this was the first show of this tour. He was amazed; he'd paid $15 to get to stand just inches from the band, when he'd been paying much higher prices to see them in larger venues with more security down south. He asked my thoughts on the new album, and I honestly said, "Like the last one... I hated it at first. But a few listens through, and I started to warm to it."

And while I now really like The Pariah, the Parrot, the Delusion, this one... I feel really similar to how this guy does. Something's missing. And with a few of the quips Gavin made during the show... he might be a little tired. And to be tired on the first show of a tour...

But regardless... they started with Another Tribe. And I was a little worried... my first thought was, "Oh, wow... this guy gets a lot of help in the studio." His voice was weak, a little thin, a little off. But no, he was just cold, because by the third song he was warmed up, energetic and it just built from there. 17 songs in the set, and by the end the crowd was singing so loud you could clearly hear them over the amazingly blaring sound system. Lots of goodness from old albums, and a few from the new.

The band put a great deal of energy into it, and the fans loved them for it.

After midnight (we'd gotten there a little after 7) we left, drenched in sweat and buzzing both due to energy overload and good old tinnitis. The evening was capped off with some food cart foraging at the 12th Street pod. We tried the PB&J frittes (a Thai peanut sauce with a berry-chipotle jelly) that was jump-up-on-the-table-and-scream-will-you-marry-me good, and a savory pie from Whiffies (brisket and moz). I'd slammed down two glasses of the home made ginger soda from the pizza cart in an attempt to sooth my shredded vocal cords, then moved on to lemonade from Whiffies.

My head hit Jon's futon at 1:30; my ears ringing so badly it seemed as if my whole cranium was vibrating. Madness threatened to overcome me, the sensation was so strong. Exhaustion trumped madness before too long. It seemed but moments before the iPhone blared its alarm, misset for 5am instead of the luxurious hour of 6am when we had to rise, find Jon's dive gear, and drive up to the Salmon Creek area to meet up with Dan for a day trip up to Sund Rock.

The company was good, the diving was very good and the completeness of the weekend, constructed together through a yin and yang of experiences, was epic. Yes, I'll use that word. As deliriously blissful as I was amidst the cacophony of energy and stimulation at the show, the deep sense of calm, serenity and one-ness I found in the water that day was so powerful it made me weep.

Yes, at one point I found myself crying underwater, for no reason other than life is so goddamn beautiful.

Wanna Cuddle?

2011-08-02T22:11:00.000-07:00

(Self publishing an article I wrote last year about cuddle parties. If this sounds like fun, come join me Friday in PDX at a cuddle party! Email me for more info.)

Just imagine: you are decked out in your most comfortable and loved jammies. Sinking down onto the padded floor of the yoga studio, you make a nest out of pillows, blankets and bolsters. Around you are 10, 20 maybe even 30 people that just an hour ago you had never met. Now, one of them is rubbing your feet, someone is sitting behind you rubbing you shoulders, and you idly stroke the leg of someone as you chat. Before the evening is over, you might end up at the bottom of a puppy pile: a mass of bodies flung over one another with abandon. The vibe is one of child like laughter and warmth, like the touch you might have shared as a child with a beloved protective and comforting relative.

You’ve just imagined a snuggle party, or cuddle party.

Well, you did if you didn’t break out in a cold sweat of revulsion at the thought of actually touching someone you don’t know. The sweaters are balled up in a corner in the fetal position rocking themselves to their happy place.

In the mid 00’s, the “let’s get together and touch each other” craze got a lot of press, led by Cuddle Party, an East Coast-based non-profit started by Reid Mihalko and Marcia Baczynski in 2004. Too bad for them, though, for the PNW had it first: James Davis (known as “Jas”) started a non-profit called LoveTribe in 2002 after having an epiphany in a puppy pile during Burning Man. A Portland based entrepreneur owning holistic wellness cooperatives in Portland, his organization set out to help people learn to appreciate their own physical nature, and how to connect with others in more caring, nurturing and playful ways.

Yes, there are opening circles, boundary exercises, checking in with yourself, and lots of other hippy-dippy lingo. But the well researched and documented fact remains: as humans, we need touch. Our modern culture—from religion to technology—has done a great deal to demonize this simplest of needs. Many of us are oddly isolated at a time when digital “connection” is so ubiquitous.

LoveTribe holds monthly events perfect for those new to the concept: Yum! is a mixture of dance and snuggle party held the first Friday of each month and is a relaxing and energizing way to top off a week. You might find a Salem local or two there! The crowd at an event ranges from early 20’s hipsters to boring-by-day middle-aged accountants to more chronologically experienced members of our society. It’s a broad segment which by its very nature is very inclusive and liberal. Some attendees are informal or professional licensed massage therapists or other flavores of bodyworkers or energy healers.

The act of coming into a room of strangers and trusting them enough to let down your usual boundaries can be downright frightening. The framework of a snuggle party is built upon clear, open communication and consent. Such an environment empowers you to brazenly ask for what you want, while also holding to any boundary that feels comfortable for you. Ask for anything, and when asked say yes or no (gently and with respect) as you please.

Newcomer participation runs the gamut. Some rush in with arms flung open and crash into the first person they come across, while others might mingle around the edges, engage in some friendly discussion but forgo cuddling and simply shrink their need for physical space and sit closer to someone than usual. That’s all good; as the goal is to increase our connection to others, if you leave with a smile on your face, you’ve succeeded.

Sweating yet? I know what you’re thinking: This is just an excuse to have an orgy, right? Quite the contrary. A key element of the movement is teaching people that touch doesn’t equal sex. That’s a hard knot to untie for some in our culture: the idea that being physically close to vibrant, physically attractive people can be done without the spectre and expectation of sex. Or, on the flip side, that you’d see any point in being physically close to someone with whom you don’t sexually covet. A key element in this movement is recognizing the beauty and value in everyone, and sharing a little of your own and accepting what is offered by others. Events are strictly clothes-on and the energy level (which means your intent and thoughts) is to not be of a sexual nature. Think warm and fuzzy puppies, not hot and sexy nekkid people.

This does not mean that you don’t find yourself going a little wobbly over a person or flirting a bit. But your intent in interacting is more along the lines of hugging a close friend, and not dry humping your first teenaged girlfriend.

But one may ask, “Why?” It’s not so hard to imagine that if we each felt more connected to each other, our world might have more compassion and less hate, our individual lives more passion and less fear. So get your jammies together and let’s go. There are a few people who would like to see enough interest from the Salem metro area to support its own regular snuggle! Learn more at lovetribe.org, or email me at lavachickie@gmail.com.

Why did I wait so long? Rush in concert.

2011-06-29T15:26:00.000-07:00

Last night I ventured with friends to Sleep Country Amphitheater (what a god-awful name, people; seriously) to see Rush. Tickets were purchased months ago, and along the way friends new and old had gotten so excited for me to be seeing my first Rush show that I couldn't help but form some pretty high expectations. It took 2.5 hours from Salem to the venue, and we just barely squeeked in before the show started. This is after I swallowed a lot of bubbling road rage and about suffered an aneurism in the process while stuck in traffic on 405.

I'm a Rush fan, but not fanatic. (Well, I wasn't BEFORE last night...) I only own about half a dozen albums. Rose Hulman engineering student geek boys turned me on to them when I was in high school, circa 1988. Dabbled in them in college; became enthralled with Geddy's bass abilities and ventured to take up the bass myself and took a class and private lessons for a while. My instructor did a few basic lessons with me, then pulled Presto off of my rack, tossed it at me and told me to pick a simple bassline (or strip down a complex one) and learn it for next time. And so it went.

Through the years I've often connected deeply with some of the words coming from Geddy's mouth, most likely penned by Alex.

In short, the show was utterly fantastic. My first will NOT be my last, God and Geddy's vocal cords willing. Amazing for its technics, for their talent, for the energy in the crowd, and the simple amazing fact that after doing this for almost 40 years, these men belt out an amazingly exhausting 3 hour show without hardly breaking a sweat! Keep in mind this is near the end of a very long tour.

The stage setup was interesting, the light rigging was a show unto itself, and the use of the big screens flanking a ginormous screen behind the stage really gave everyone a great seat in the house. Lots of close-ups of Geddy and Alex's fingers on frets, the amazing Drum Cam above Neil's amazingly diverse and huge drum set, and the visuals they sprinkled through the set were mostly great additions.

Some of my favorites:

Limelight -- perhaps my favorite Rush song, was incredible... listening to the recorded version now, it seems so flat and calm. I'm ruined!

Faithless -- my favorite from Snakes and Arrows. I know every word, and the old guy behind me was like, "I've never heard that song. What?" Later he did know something off of that album, though.

I don't have faith in faith

I don't believe in belief

You can call me faithless

I still cling to hope

And I believe in love

And that's faith enough for me

Presto -- contains my favorite lyric of all time, the only words I've ever thought about getting inked onto my skin: "I am made from the dust of the stars, and the oceans flow in my veins." Actually, the song as a whole is pretty damn cool.

BU2B -- a new piece, and I'm loving it. It's part of the upcoming album, but released early. A little harder, excellent yet simple lyrics.

Subdivisions - clearly I'm not the only one that loves this song as I think the entire venue knew the words.

YYZ - one of my favorite instrumentals ever.

Okay, the set list is here. Let's just say I LOVED IT ALL! Otherwise this post is going to get pretty long.

Neil's drum solo was... stunning. At first some good old fashioned drumming with a lot of complexity and flair. In the middle the set rotates, he stands up and turns around, and ventures into something totally different. Loved both halves.

They were all amazing. In most parts... Geddy's voice held strong. The set ramps up and swells in both energy and decibles, and I was almost breathless by intermission. Geddy finished the first half REALLY strong; the guy behind me said, "He sounds like he's 20!" and I had to agree. But the first piece or two after intermission were rough and had me worried. But somehow, it smoothed out and by the end of the second half everything was at a fever pitch so high it was almost maddening.

When you think you've hit the peak, then they encore and... good lord it rocked the entire states of Washington and Oregon. STUNNING.

Lots of great raving about the show on The Rush Forum. If I could I'd catch this tour again. Will be on the lookout for the next one.

It's really summer in Oregon!

2011-06-26T01:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a gorgeous day; temps in the mid 70's, clear blue sky, soft breeze. Vowing to leave our worries behind and NOT work this weekend, we crammed a slew of Oregon favorites into today.

After sleeping in until 8:15 (a rare treat) we started the day in the hot tub, then ran out to EZ Orchards for their strawberry donuts. Splitting a half dozen and slamming down some milk behind them, we hit the road and did our tour of farmer's markets.

Independence - we picked up beef from Setniker Farms; we've been enjoying their products for a while. Local, antibiotic and hormone free, and they are not sent to feed lots for finishing, from what I understand on their web site. The product is TASTY! The prices are very reasonable. And, we couldn't say no to a half flat of amazingly sweet strawberries.
Albany - we walked around and the only thing we purchased was a succulent for a little pot we have that needs filled.
Corvallis - this is our favorite. The vibe here is just awesome. We love to peruse this market and just soak up the people, the riverfront, the wonderful vendors.
Hazelnut Hill - while not a farmer's market, this little nut farm and candy purveyor is awesome. They have friends in California that provide them with Champagne walnuts, an amazingly light and sweet nut that is a favorite of mine (walnuts are often bitter, as in black walnuts, and I hate those). We bought two 2lb bags, which will see us through the year's baking (and they keep wonderfully in the freezer and fridge).
Eugene - it's over the top hippie heaven in Eugene, and the Saturday Market is chock full of wonderful smells from the food booths, wonderful art and handicraft, a huge array of home made, baked and grown eats... and the people watching is unbeatable. We rounded out our purchases with some sourdough bread. Watched cute hippies hula hoop, and soaked up the vibrations from the drum circle for a bit. I went to the same jewelrymaker from whom I bought the trinity ring I used to wear religiously and bought a replacement. I lost it back in April when I did the SOLV Beach Cleanup. It had been getting very loose, and I'd taken to wearing it on my thumb. I deduced that when I stripped off the rubber gloves to throw them into the bag as we finished, the ring went with them. I noticed it was gone shortly afterward, but we'd already dropped off the bags of trash! It feels so good to have one back on my thumb!

Scot had somehow run across Camp Putt mini golf and the Roaring Rapids Pizza right next door online. We headed there for some afternoon fun, and it was a little nostalgic -- mini golf was one of our first dates, and in fact I still have the red golf ball he used during that round. Yes, I stole it. :) It's an antique now! It sits in a little curio cabinet on the wall in the hallway. He had promised he would decimate me on the course... but he only beat me by two. We were both waaaaaay over par, but come on... two strokes? I don't call that a decimation!

Before we hit the course we enjoyed lunch out on the edge of the river, soaking up some vitamin D. Not a bad pie, by west coast standards.

We meandered our way home, stopping in Corvallis again to grocery shop. Once home, I set out put our flat of berries to good use, first making a strawberry pie, then cutting up some for a compote for tomorrow morning's waffles. The rest went into the freezer.

As dusk started to settle we built a fire in the pit, and roasted hot dogs we'd gotten a bit ago from Otto's Sausage Kitchen in Portland. For dessert it was s'mores made with some fresh made marshmallows from Marché Provisions in Eugene. OMG SO GOOD.

The evening was complete with shooting stars overhead.

The evening wasn't perfect, however. As I'm in the camper out back in the late evening digging around looking for our hot dog roasting forks, I hear an odd heavy snap, a thud, and Scot moans. I poke my head out of the camper and see that one of the 4x4s we sunk three years ago for the hammocks had broken. Of course he was IN the hammock when it happened so it comes forward as he finds himself on the ground and thumps him in the shoulder. Could have been SO much worse though -- could have hit him in the head!

Why do you dive?

2011-06-24T21:41:00.000-07:00

Often people will ask, "What is there to see down there?" or "That looks like a lot of work, is it really worth it?"

After a year and a half, it's still worth it just for the amazing thrill of breathing under water. Even if a dive is barren and boring, the simple act itself makes it worthwhile. I've spoken to divers with thousands of dives who say the same thing. I hope that feeling never abates.

But there are miracles even larger and more stunning to be seen. Divers in the PNW marvel at the Giant Pacific Octopus; we love to find them, and consider it a great dive even if all we see is a few suckers on the curve of a tentacle inside a cubby hole under a boat. "We saw an octo!" is the cry of the triumphant aquatic warrior.

Scot reminds us, as once again octos start sitting with eggs, with this repost of a video by Seeing In Green that shows the amazing hatching of thousands of baby GPOs. It is stunning and bittersweet; the mother octo, at just a few years old, will lay her eggs, and from that point on stay with them for 3-4 months to arrange them, protect them, and flush water over them. She doesn't eat, and over the time she watches them, she weakens, turning from the familiar deep red to a pink and then ashen gray. After they hatch, she dies. Her work gives birth to thousands of little babies, and out of that batch perhaps 3-4 will live to maturity (that's what I've read, anyway).

Diving always centers me in a way nothing else can, and fills me with a perspective on the world that I just can't find elsewhere.

This video also shows one of my favorite dive sites, Alki Cove 2, with the Seattle cityscape in the background. I love Cove 2!

A report from the Trader Joes frontlines.

2011-06-17T17:30:00.000-07:00

The morning buzz in the local Twitterverse made it sound like there were Vancouver-level riots and craziness at the new Trader Joes opening today in Salem, OR. With 100 waiting in line when the doors opened, Salem was giving TJ's a warm welcome. Come hell or high water, I planned to take a spin through the store to show my support for Salem FINALLY getting its due and snagging one of the stores.

Don't get me wrong... it was busy. Very busy. But certainly doable. All checklines were open, 5-8 customers deep waiting. The parking lot was full. People were streaming in and out. But everyone had a smile on their face and were pretty happy. (Well, almost everyone. A woman I spoke to in line wanted to know why they were so busy; I guess the big banner on the front the proclaimed "OPEN JUNE 17TH" wasn't enough of an explanation.)

At 4:30ish, I took the plunge. As a seasoned Trader Joes fanatic, I went in with a plan: determine what size and layout they had chosen, get a handful of must-have items, and share in the party like atmosphere.

Mission accomplished!

Despite the mobs, shelves remained fairly well stocked. You could tell the fans from the spectators; some, like me, were focused; the others could be identified by statements such as, "OMG, Ethel, LOOK! COLORED OLIVES! AND ONLY $3.99!"

I wish that were a joke.

At the checkout, I chatted with some lovely fellow Salemites who were very pleased. "Salem used to not be cool enough for a TJ's," one woman said with a snooty play in her voice. "But now we are!" I said in return and we both broke down laughing. An older couple in front of me took interest in what I had in my basket -- an odd mix: limes, lemons, dried Italian meats, double cream gouda, candy, nuts, cookies. Lots of cookies. Three types of cookies to be exact. We talked about cooking, exchanged ideas and suggestions. The old guy got a little frisky (you go, boy!) and everyone was having a blast.

At the checkout, the bagger was a manager from the Lake Oswego store. He said the turnout was really impressive. He seemed pleasantly surprised. "We might break a record," he said. "This is a really good turnout for a store opening. It might be this busy in Manhattan, but who imagined here?" (He clarified when asked by the couple in front of me that most of the staff there were indeed from Salem; they just had extra staff in to help during the startup from other areas.)

I made a beeline for the guys at Blue Element Scuba, and stood in the office doorway and proclaimed, "Gaze upon the bag of goodness that I did NOT have to drive to Tigard, Corvallis, or Eugene to get!!"

We tore into maple cookies, sesame cashews, dark chocolate peppermints and more. So much for dinner.

An eight legged friend.

2011-05-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

Pretty much the same video as Justin's. But... it's mine. A partial answer to the question of, "What can you see down there?" This area is a sunken boat and tire reef (tires make great places for life to live and grow) that hosts a number of critters, including this big guy. There's an older mate living in the same area; we saw some pink/grey tentacles hiding.

Giant Pacific Octopus at Mike's Beach May 2011 from Amy Young-Leith on Vimeo.

Flying in the hook.

2011-05-25T22:03:00.000-07:00

Tuesday the spreader bar for my Dakine Fusion Seat Harness came. That's a contraption you strap on which allows you to anchor the pull of a large kite onto a low center of gravity on your body. I hadn't put the pieces together because I dreaded the assumed realization that it wouldn't fit. Urged out into the sun, wind and light rain by my kiteboarder-to-be friend this afternoon, I hooked it all up and... with one minor issue, it fit. Shazam!

Taking Yoda, our Hydra 350 from HQ, we hit a field next to the slammer here in Salem. The first feel was... hard to put into words. I've always loved flying kites, loved the feeling of the power. But up to this point, my kite flying was like chastely holding hands with a lover. Flying in the hook is like actually coming together as one. The feeling is just... amazing. It's a partnership, not a struggle as it has always felt. It was a visceral, seductive feel that was scary as hell and inviting at the same time.

The kite responds so much more sharply than when flying with the bar in your hands. How is that? You can steer with two fingers if you like! The wind was gusty and thready, and my legs stiff and unresponsive at first. But soon I started to give into it, giving up the fight and seeking to work with it.

Then a gust came up, caught me off guard, and threw my ass on the ground -- again. I actually bounced on my left shoulder, three times! Damn, that hurt. Luckily, I'm resilient. And well padded.

Sund Rock, Mike's Beach and Flagpole

2011-05-22T21:57:00.001-07:00

Sund Rock, Mike's Beach and Flagpole, a set on Flickr.

Spent the weekend up in Hood Canal and got in eight great dives, including two night dives. We visited Sund Rock on Friday, stayed at and dove Mike's Beach on Saturday, started Sunday morning with Flagpole and then back to Mike's Beach. Some nice long ones with lots of bottom time, too. Nice and slow, allowing me to improve my critter finding abilities. Found some good ones!

The first night dive, with an amazing display of bioluminescence as we descended down the line followed by a very long visit with a large roaming GPO ranks as... I'll say one of my favorite dives ever. And we basically did a repeat the next night. Awesome. More types of gunnels than I can count, sailfin sculpin, a BIG grunt sculpin, some unknown funky things... can't even recount it all. The perma-smile this weekend generated will last all week, for sure.

I was finally able to elucidate why I enjoy cold water diving so much... it's more of a challenge, so the rewards seem more substantial. Strangely, I came home and shared this with Scot (who thinks I'm crazy when I say in the middle of a tropical dive trip that I miss my cold home waters), and he had a similar discussion with someone at Blue Element Scuba and Adventure Center today.

A weekend where the focus is dive, eat, sleep, repeat is great. There's a rhythm that develops, and a fun, summer-camp like pleasure in dropping all pretense about what your hair looks like. The funk that develops in your drysuit is like a badge of honor; you worked hard for that! Saturday afternoon was filled with a lovely nap-a-thon. Lots of laughter, socializing with other divers and shops. Good times.

Enjoyed helping with some training, continuing to get into a grove with new buddies, visited some new sites, and learned a lot along the way.

Now it's off to bed to cuddle with Scot and page through Andy Lamb's big picture book so I can ID the things I really saw for the first time this weekend! So much has always been there, probably, but I'm just now SEEING it.

EDIT: No Andy Lamb book -- my copy is at the shop! Argh!

Remembering.

2011-05-20T06:33:00.000-07:00

Yin Yang Art Bug. Love it. Balance.
As long as it's propped up on tires, anyway.

For a bit the thought of reinvention has been on my mind; it was a bit of a "goal" before The Big One. It hit me, squarely, while buzzing about on a scooter on the backside of Cozumel that this is not a reinvention... but rather a reclamation. There is not a new me emerging, but rather a continuation with a focus on looking forward to enable motion instead of looking down and staying in place for safety; tending to some unfostered or neglected parts which were sacrificed as a cost for fitting in, squaring up, playing it safe.

Well... I'm not gonna do that anymore. So much.

Get your scuba on w/ Blue Element's Groupon!

2011-05-16T06:03:00.000-07:00

You've got until this evening to get a great deal on a Discover Scuba class (if you are scuba-curious but not ready to sign up for a certification class) or a Refresher if you've a certified diver that's been dry for just a little too long. Blue Element is jumping on the bandwagon and offering a screaming deal through Groupon.


Scot (lower left) and Justin (lower right) work with dive master candidates.

My Mom and Dad are headed out soon. I'm not-so-secretly hoping they will sign up for a Discover Scuba class for their upcoming visit. :)

Fun shots today.

2011-05-14T21:04:00.000-07:00

Sat in the knee-high grass in the back yard this afternoon as Marissa and her friend Bailey played. Winston was already pooped out from the Farmer's Market.

Check 'em out.

Kites, air and water.

2011-05-13T05:11:00.000-07:00

[This post mysteriously disappeared; luckily, Google had already cached it so I was able to recreate!]

As a kid, I loved kites, but didn't get much wind time. As an adult I thought kites were for kids. Moving to the Pacific Northwest, however, I learned that BIG kites are for BIG KIDS!

For the last few years, Scot and I have gone to kite festivals and watched amazing creations of fabric and design fly high. Blessed we are to have such greats like Gomberg nearby! (One year for Scot's birthday I called them to order the line laundry pandas; I talked to David himself! He was out of stock, but assured me he'd whip me up a set and get them out in time for the big day. I felt like a superstar!)

We've amassed a collection of kites, getting a little bigger each year. Last year's purchase was a medium sized sport multi line foil, an HQ Symphony 2.1. Not a powerkite, really, but more kite than most people ever fly for sure. (See the lovely Symphone line at HQ!) My first fly of it was in a stiff wind while visiting the International Kite Festival in Long Beach, WA. It was a thrill to realize this kitehad more than enough pull to stand me up from a seated position. It's flown with two wrist straps, and later on at a kite shop in Lincoln City the gentleman behind the counter heard me talking excitedly about it. Scot purchased something and for some reason, the owner handed me two padded wrist straps and said, "Yours. Free. You'll need them. That won't be your last kite."

We were considering a Peter Lynn show kite as the next step up, or a LARGE lifter.

Then, something happened. One of those events that connects the dots and... sets you down a path. A few months ago, a friend and I headed to the coast to help with the SOLV beach cleanup, and I brought along some kites to play with after the work was done. We sent up my orange Giant Ghost Delta with some line laundry (after once again shelving the lifter because of its wind pickyness); then I pulled out the Symphony.

What a blast that was. The fun lasted for quite a long time, until after one too many slams on the leading edge caused us to blow a seam! Despite the kite injury, we left the beach hours later with me happy as a clam because someone actually went kiting with me and had fun, and I could see he was stoked from the wind play as well.

Here's where it all comes together. We headed to the Pelican Pub in Lincoln City for dinner. We wait for a bit as they are busy, and then are shown the perfect table, the booth that's right in the center of their windows on the beach. Wouldn't you know, there's a guy riding the waves out there, but not a surfer. He's kitesurfing. We have the perfect view of him playing in the waves in front of us. I wistfully watched, thinking back to an afternoon I'd watched a guy with a big ass kite and a harness bouncing down the beach at Seaside, taking large, lofty, wind-lifted steps with the occasional long distance float thanks to his kite. Then I'd watched him with wistful want, and the same feeling washed over me again. As I'm deep in that mindset I hear...

"We should do that."

(That's one of the things I appreciate about this person; he'll make statements such as this, or "That needs to happen," and approach something from an angle totally different from mine. I'm all impetuous, impulsive and adventurous when it comes to humor, love, food, sex or fiscal matters, but suggest something even mildly athletic with a physical risk or challenge and I'm all like, "Let's catalogue the reasons that this isn't a good idea." We all have a good idea where that one came from.)

And doing it I am. We bought a trainerkite and have chased the wind a few times a week since. We've had great afternoons in a field or on the beach with a stiff 15, and stood out in the middle of fields trying to coax enough out of a 3 to keep the HQ Hydra 350 in the air... standing there like disappointed children with long faces when we can't. (But even on those afternoons we get enough to get a little flight in.)

(Amusingly, the image to the left is clearly not a "real" image. Anyone see why?)
There's something amazingly cool to stand just beyond the reach of the lines and see a big, filled arc of a kite hiss by, or standing at the bar and hear it cut through the wind, giving a pull to one side and seeing and feeling the kite turn. He's more into jumps and getting air, and I'm still trying to just keep my face out of the dirt with a dream of someday partnering my love of wind and water together for simple movement... I'll ponder tricks later. (Many great face plants I've done, thanks to a general lack of physical grace, a poor understanding of basics physics, and delayed reaction to kite pull; instead of dropping my butt to counter balance, I let it get the best of me and have a tendency to let go waaaay too late when its clear things are going south. (Hey, that tenacity comes in handy in other areas!) There's actually video of one that resulted in a huge bruise on my pelvis as beach sand is much harder than it looks, but thankfully that hasn't hit the airwaves. Yet.)

This path has a long laundry list of things to do; my next step is hooking the kiteup to a harness (already obtained this one) which will help distribute the weight to a lower center of gravity (fewer faceplants). I'm signing up to attend a wakeboard camp early this summer to get the hang of moving a board on water. Then will be some kiteboard training up in the Gorge and then... the purchase of my first big kite. Hopes to move through all this during the summer... that's going to be a challenge.

And in between, trying to lose as much weight as possible and improve upper body strength and stamina because I'm going to need it. And make sure the health insurance coverage stays in place.

The fire coral experience: Day 17

2011-05-12T07:21:00.000-07:00

"Uh oh, you're going to have that for weeks, maybe a month. And it's gonna itch, then it'll hurt, then..."

"I had mine for six months!"

"That left me with scars for a long time."

I surfaced from the first boat dive in Cozumel last month with a rash on my hand. As I pondered it, a buddy saw and proclaimed a fire coral contact, and delivered a gloom and doom forecast of weeks of pain, itching and generalized suffering. Looking at the light pink rash on my left hand that spanned a large triangle from thumb to index finger to wrist which wasn't much bother, it seemed to be a little drama meant to toy with me. But I should have known: he was right.

Skimming closely along the reef, distraction caused me to turn and dip. My hand ran into a Christmas-tree like underwater citizen called a stinging hydroid who delivered a sharp and intense (but brief) jolt of pain, like a shock. These things are EVERYWHERE down there, and gloves aren't allowed as it's a sanctuary.

That day it was just a pink scatter of rash, without pain or even much itch. Pretty much the same for the next day, and it even seemed to be fading on the third. I awoke on the 4th day, however, with an angry, raging red rash that was raised and swollen... and itched like mad. By this point I was heeding warnings and not itching it, a herculean task that, over the course of the following week, led to nail biting and stress snacking. The urge to itch was maddening, but to touch it gave only a moment of relief and then pain. After a few more days the itch went away and it was just pain: random sharp stabs of pain. The swelling was very localized, but what was swollen was REALLY swollen, as if the skin would burst.

Now, on day 17, it's clear that the affected tissue will scar as its essentially been destroyed from the inside. Now the rash is flat, but with a strange purple hue and cracks of dryness. Lovely.

But thankfully... no itching. Perhaps the worst is over.

What can be done? Not much, according to DAN. Happened to be at my doctor the next week and we discussed; any topical was out of the question because moistening the skin made it itch more; steroids during allergy/cold season wasn't an idea I liked. That coupled with a belief that dealing with a little ouchie now and then is a character builder meant there wasn't much to do but leave it alone. (Aside from a little boasting and whining.)

Short but sweet. Watch it.

2011-04-23T11:24:00.001-07:00

Another TED which touches my heart, brings me to tears, and informs my life.

Ric Elias: 3 things I learned while my plane crashed | Video on TED.com

Taj Mahal expands the Indian cuisine offerings in Salem, Oregon.

2011-04-15T18:05:00.000-07:00

Another splash of flavor hits the Salem downtown! At 12th and State, Taj Mahal is snuggled between the smokey aromas of Adam's Rib Smokehouse and the more-often-than-not-empty Roxxy space.

For background, I love Indian food. My authentically-Indian-friend, Kalpana, rolls her eyes at me and tells me I know nothing about it, however; all my favorites are "restaurant food" and not things a normal Indian family eat at their dinner table. I don't care. She's cooked for me, and helped me to cook, many more "real" Indian foods, and I love those just as much as I love the Americanized Indian Food Idea. The rich flavors, seductively powerful aromas, a pinch of heat, and the contrasting undertones of yogurt or some other creamy nature intoxicate me. There are days I stop cold and say, "My God, I need some Indian food. Now." And nothing abates the desire until I've had it.

My husband and I arrived to meet a friend at 12:30p on a Friday and were seated in the last available seat, a booth -- a very roomy booth, I might add. Booths that require a Kate Moss like physique really tick me off, but you won't find those here. The narrow strip of a restaurant, in the space that used to be Two Doors Down, is basically but pleasantly appointed. As soon as I walked, rich aromas filled my nostrils and promised a pleasing taste experience. I couldn't wait to give the buffet a run for its money. (I always say that, but then one modestly filled plate later I'm full. But it sounds good, no?)

The buffet began with a selection of two soups, a tomato and an Indian spiced chicken soup. Next was a small fruit and vegetable bar, with fresh crisp offerings. I ladled my favorite condiments, tamarind sauce and green chutney, into a bowl and then took a sample of almost everything on the buffet. Offerings included a nice array of basic Indian restaurant fare that will satisfy your Indian jones but not scare off timid friends. (For instance, no goat.) Vegetable Pakora, Papadam, Dal Makhni, Mutter Paneer, Karahi Chicken, Chicken Makhani, and ample amounts of fresh, moist tandoori chicken. And of course, naan. Lots of fluffy, soft bread with crisp parts.

There is a full menu, but the winner at lunch is the buffet. It is well stocked, and is replenished often but clearly the items are made in small batches, making it fresh and yummy! I say "clearly" because every few minutes, a woman would walk from the back where the kitchen is to the front carrying a fairly small sauce pan full of a dish that was hot off the stove to replenish the buffet.

There were a lot of staff, but they were somewhat disorganized. Opening was only April 5th, and some of the wait staff appeared very young. They're very helpful if you wave them down and ask for what you want. But they will, for instance, seat you and then not come back to take your drink order or confirm that you do indeed want to partake of the buffet. We waited ten minutes and then just got up and helped ourselves and flagged them down later for drinks.

But you know what, I'm forgiving when the food is this good. The flavors are well balanced, not overly done. Mild, if anything. But the quality comes through.

Taj Mahal Indian Restaurant is seven days a week open for lunch 11a-3pm, and closed until dinner from 5p-9pm. The take away menu implies the buffet is available on the weekends, too.

On the buffet you can eat in for $7.95 (includes fountain soda), OR get a discount and choose from two sizes of carryout containers, small ($5.25) and large ($6.95)! A brisk business was being done in the take-out department, and it's certainly going to be a frequent stop in my lunch runs at that price, and at the flavorful quality I experienced.

Dinner dishes are well priced, and I'm curious to return and see how the value plays out, as most Indian favorites these days are serving smaller dishes with less meat and higher prices.

So until we return for a second pass and a look at the dinner dishes... go enjoy the lunch buffet! The place cleared out at 1pm, with only two three tables occupied, but a second lunch rush filled the place to half capacity again in a few minutes. The buffet remained fresh and flavorful through it all.

Loving the cold waters.

2011-04-12T00:47:00.000-07:00

"What's down there?" people always ask.
How about this little party?

What a weekend. Enjoyed a productive day at home on Friday (doing this, that, and the other) then up to Washington to dive with Banditos Charters on Saturday, head to the expo in the late afternoon and then off with friends for dinner. A whole day perusing and visiting at the expo while the boys worked the booth, and then a chat filled drive home that made the time fly.

Pictures from the dives here on Fickr; pics of the expo on Facebook.

A little bit of wonderful, a lyric:

2011-04-11T05:46:00.000-07:00

This pretty much sums it up.

I am made from the dust of the stars,
and the oceans flow in my veins. - Rush (Presto)

2011-04-08T09:47:00.000-07:00

Neil Pasricha, I love you. You are... awesome. Attitude, awareness, authenticity. Embrace your inner 3 year old. You have made me laugh, cry, and smile. Thank you.

Neil Pasricha: The 3 A's of awesome | Video on TED.com

Slap "Psychology Test" onto something and I can't resist.

2011-04-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

I want to research the background on this one. So far no luck on locating the research of either Pierley or Redford. But anyway... peep this bizarre "psychological test." It's all the rage right now. Would love to find out if this is just a bogus joke or if there's something behind it. Probably not... this smells of April Fools to me.

http://io9.com/#!5789483/take-an-online-psychology-test-seemingly-designed-to-drive-you-insane

This one... takes the cake. The questions... make no sense. But the results... You tell me how accurate this is. Freaky!

You reach out to the world and pull in experiences of all forms and kinds. Spontaneous, immediate and active, you have a natural tendency to win, whether this is in the business world or on the freeway. In the right context this can be a positive encouragement to those around you. In the wrong context it can lead to a pathetic display of ego and misplaced pride. You are always on the prowl for clues as to how to win. Usually this behavior is unconscious or playful but the sense of play can rapidly disappear if you are found to be losing in the aforementioned contest. Only those who don’t compete are met with derision. You love to be the center of attention. The moment at hand is always of prime concern. Worries about the future or the past, or abstract discussions of philosophical matters are something for others to concern themselves with. Emotions are fleeting and often used as tactics.

Not 100% but... some strong points. Thanks to Lamont for sharing this one.

Have fun and clean up the beach on Saturday March 26!

2011-03-18T15:51:00.000-07:00

I am proud and excited to be leading a group through Blue Element Scuba to participate in the SOLV (Sustaining Oregon's Legacy by Volunteering) Spring Beach Cleanup. While the shop is sponsoring the event, you don't have to be a diver to participate! All this requires is a love for Oregon's beautiful coastline, and a desire to have a fun day with some great people.

Join me and spend a great day at the beach! We are assigned to clean up the area around the Netarts Bay Boat Ramp from 11am - 1pm. Afterward, we will rendezvous for lunch at the Pelican Pub and Brewery (BYOL: buy your own lunch :-) ). I plan to bring my assemblage of kites for some on-the-beach flying time afterward if the weather is agreeable. (I have a large variety, from small beginner kites to fairly large lifters with sand anchors that are a joy to watch and I'm happy to share).

We will meet at the Netarts Bay Boat Ramp at 11am. If you want to ride share let me know and I'll try to connect people who want to share.

See complete information on the SOLV web site:
http://www.solv.org/programs/spring_beach_cleanup.asp

To "sign up" you must do TWO THINGS:

1. Either join the event through the Surface Interval Society Meetup group OR send me an email at amy@bescuba.com by Wednesday at 12:00 noon letting me know you are joining me!

2. Go to the SOLV web site and sign up at http://www.solv.org/programs/forms/form_VolRegistration.asp?EventID=18498. Complete the form, and when asked to select a group, select Blue Element Scuba.

Back to life, back to reality.

2011-03-14T21:50:00.000-07:00

The past four days have been a vacation-in-place for us. We escaped the normal routine for four days, and instead indulged in relaxing, socializing, exploring. They've passed by so quickly, leaving a treasure trove of memories in their wake.

We started today with the dogs' favorite words: "Do you want to go to the beach!?" Much running around, freaking out and leash nudging ensued... we were a little premature as there were still showers and breakfast to be had, but it was fun to get them wound up in advance.

Beach walking, kite flying, sightseeing, gallery shopping and sampling some of the areas favorite eats kept us busy through a day filled with fits and spurts of light rain, and even a few sunbeams. The surf was roaring today; the ocean was churning with some of the largest waves I've seen off the coast. Beautiful curls, with a wind that whipped the frothy tops off as they broke. Amazingly powerful and beautiful.

Tomorrow it's back to real life. Making up for money spent, and back to more mindful choices about eating and activity. I didn't "fall off the wagon," I simply made different choices for a while with the knowledge that adjustments would have to be made afterwards in order to keep the equation balanced. Every day contained more activity than I could have gotten away with... even if it was just Winston's walk. He's doing GREAT with that! He runs almost the whole thing now as we walk briskly. As I repeat week one of the C25K program, I think he honestly might be able to do it with me.

How embarrassing if my old, fat dog is able to outrun me!

As often happens, the tail of winter found me down and introspective, lacking a vibrant outlook. Spring plus the inspiration of friends has me raring to go, however, and brimming with energy and ideas. Good thing, for there's so much to be done. Recent family and world events certainly makes me reflect as well; appreciating what I am blessed to have, and recognizing its fragile impermanence.

I'm including this poem without permission, but am keeping the links to the original source, NPR's The Writer's Almanac.

What Have I Got to Complain About

by David Budbill

We've got enough money now not to worry every minute
about where the next dollar is coming from.
We even go to the movies once in a while.
We've got a nice collection of friends.
Our house is sturdy and well built.
It keeps us warm and stands well against the storms.
The larder is full of rice.
There are plenty of potatoes down cellar.
The freezer is full of vegetables I grew myself.

In the face of all that, slights to my vanity
seem frivolous and nonsensical.

What have I got to complain about?

"What Have I Got to Complain About" by David Budbill, from While We've Still Got Feet. © Copper Canyon Press, 2005. (buy now)

Oh, the joy!

2011-03-12T22:54:00.000-08:00

Winter has its effects, and being crazy-busy certainly compounds those. The last few days have been an amazing break from the norm, and are reminding me of so much: the perspective of things; the value of strong connections between friends (even if distance separates you most of the time); and the amazing amount of wonder that remains in the world!

Friday night we gathered at my house, friends from east and west, for dinner. Eschewing fancy productions, the point of the evening was a hot dog bacchanalia of sorts: different types of sausages, options for buns, and an array of fixin's including a freshly made New York Style onion sauce. It was a blast, both for the food and the wonderful company. A house filled with the smiles and laughter of those I care about is such a profound delight to me, and a joy I miss -- we used to do it so often back in Bloomington. Big dinner parties where a core group attended with the now-and-then drop in of others.

I also miss being hosted; the halcyon days of the weekly rotating dinner party are some of my fondest memories, and Matt and Angela my favorites host/hostess. (Sorry to play favorites, but it's true. So many good times.) The weeks seemed easy to bear when you knew the familiar routine of sinking into a comfortable couch (yours or someone else) with a drink in hand and hours of just chillin' lying before you...

These past few days have made me miss what my life was, appreciate what my life is, and informs what I want my life to be.

Today we introduced our friends Glenn and Kalpana to the sublime joys found in a cup at Dutch Brothers, and then played in Portland. We hit old favorites like the Columbia Outlet, and had uniquely Portland experiences such as lunching at the Grilled Cheese Grill on 28th (Glenn is my hero, he dared to get the Cheesus, but all our selections were awesome), poking around a make-your-own terrarium shop (SO earthy-hipster-trendy Portland), seeing the Portland Iditarod and running across a bagpiper and a gang of men in kilts leading a Scottish dog parade through downtown as we scoped out clog stores and spice shops.

After some rabid retail activity at the Columbia Outlet in Lake Oswego (shoes, pants, t shirt, running jacket and skirt all for only $120), we poked our heads into the Columbia Flagship store downtown (just happened to park nearby); I ventured in as far as I needed to spy a jacket I fell in love with, until I saw the $350 price tag (I can't even find it on their web site). We turned on our heels and headed down to Clogmasters where an old Swedish woman lectured us on foot physiology and the poor state of the footwear market as she fit K for some new shoes (purple leather, black sole--to be delivered). Meandering our way around, we stopped into John Helmer Haberdasher and tried on hats (so many hats). Enjoyed perusing at The Spice and Tea Exchange (but seriously... the prices? Gimme Penzeys.) So much fun.

I fell in swooning, heart-thumping love with Portland all over again, as usual. But it's a fickle attraction, for sure.

We set out for the original VooDoo Donut downtown... but at 3:30p the line was two blocks long. So I directed Scot to VooDoo Donut Too and was surprised to see that even there was a line 30 deep. I've been there a few times, but it's usually around 6am as I'm headed up to Washington to dive! No one is there at that time! We grabbed some favorites (mine are bacon maple bars and grape apes) and sat in the truck gorging ourselves on sugar. Leave it to the diabetic to get the Tex-Ass.

We headed out to Beaverton in search of good ethnic groceries (yes, all the best are out there, I've found so far--Paldo World [Korean] and Owijamaya [Japanese] being favorites). We found Bazaar International Market and it rocked my world! We picked up the spices we needed for our Indian cooking extravaganza planned for tomorrow, and had a blast poking through the wonderful and intriguing things. The big scores were an easy spicing mix for Butter Chicken, and a free falafel press with a three pack of falafel mix... oh and fresh made samosas!

IT'S FALAFEL TIME IN THE LEITH HOUSEHOLD!!!

We all agreed that while in intriguing, the Yogurt Soda need not be tried.

We came home and unpacked, carting our booty into the house. Before we got too comfortable we grabbed Winston and Marissa and took a walk. The little guy is really shaping up fast; while his first .58 mile just a week ago left him dragging before the end, he did .77 tonight and was still running in spurts as we approached home, and it was in about the same amount of time, maybe even a smidge faster!

You go, boy!

No excuses. Just do it.

2011-03-10T06:15:00.000-08:00

Dark. Raining. Cold. My body not overly sore but tired, more tired than I've felt it in a long time. I had every excuse in the world cued up as to why I shouldn't or couldn't exercise. But I put on my gear (which is woefully inadequate for a rainy night), stepped out into it, started up the tools on my iPod and took off for Day 2 of the C25K program.
While it kicked my ass, I genuinely enjoyed it. There was something... affirming... running along a dark neighborhood street, soaked like a rat. I even ran along Center Street for a portion. I figured if someone wants to give a fat girl running in the rain any gruff, I'd have full justification to flip them the bird. Of course no one did.

It had been hard to make it through the day. I had not rested the day before: I'd done an hour of yoga and then that same night an hour of swimming.My body and mind felt great... but the body was exhausted.

It's different this time. I've lost weight before. (Few who know me now realized I weighed 137 when I was 18 -- after I lost 75 lbs in 5 months). But I cared little other than about the scale.Which is why I gained that back and more in college and afterward.

This is different. Yes, I want to lose weight, but I want to do it through fully inhabiting my body and developing a sense of "this is not right" and being moved by that internal motivation. Not by a scale, a dress size, or an image. That's the only way it'll work (the definition of work meaning long term).

It's an interesting position to be in -- as someone who spent a lot of time workign to "accept" her body and learning to fully inhabit it in some ways... there was a lot that I was purposefully blind to, a lot that I overlooked, pushed under the rug, refused to see. It's like having an amazing car and you spend all this time caring for and learning about how to adjust the leather driver's seat with the 12 way automatic controls... and ignore the whole rest of the car while it goes to hell in a handbasket.

Who needs 20 minutes?

2011-03-08T22:37:00.000-08:00

Thanks to my peeps for the positive comments about writing. I'll keep rattling along then. Tonight I just got home; it was 10:15pm and I took Winston for his walk. I had gone to yoga, then to the pool. Did 20 laps (laps, not lengths) in mask/snorkel/fins. That was easy; the straight swim is gonna kill me. I can get most of a pool length underwater; could go further if I packed a bit first. That's good--I thought I'd be starting from a worse spot, but this is ok. Spent a lot of time just playing around. Better than sitting.

So tired. Was totally full of energy, ideas and beautiful words today but now... Time for some Zzzzs.

The rules were simple.

2011-03-07T21:36:00.000-08:00

Got home after work, suited up, and took Winston for his .58 mile. He finished it in a blazing... 18 minutes. And that was with me walking backwards in front of him cheering him on for parts. He blazed across the grass to the steps, though; he had a little left in him. This winter his lethargy has spiraled into a compounding problem of inactivity -> weight gain -> inactivity -> increased arthritis pain -> inactivity... So he's in training. His .58 once a day for 1-2 weeks, then twice a day, and maybe we'll extend it if he gains speed. While he's in training the Rimadyl has been doubled. I'm using MapMyWalk to help us.

After getting him inside, I committed to the the C25K program. The rules were simple:

You can stop IF you fall and break something.

Nails don't count.
Neither do glasses, iPods or other non-organic body parts.
Teeth count IF you are bleeding and can't get it to stop.

See Rule #1.

A message has been coming to me from various angles. Stop settling for good enough. Actually dig deep, and GO DEEP. Into people; into art; into skills... into myself.

A few weeks ago I lamented my state of Jill of Many Things, Master of None to my Zen Master Scot while in the hot tub one morning. (So much counseling goes on in those waters.) I realized that, for most of my life, I have sought to maximize my indulgent pleasure, and minimize my commitment and responsibility, by spreading myself as thin as possible. I shied away from going deep in a few things, choosing to play in the shallow mudpuddles of many. This is true for professional paths, hobbies, friends and lovers, you name it. (The one exception, which apparently proves the rule, is my dear partner of nearly 22 years.) And to be truthful, it served me well. Until now. I find myself wanting more. But of what I can't discern. Just... more. And more of the spreading thin isn't doing it.

A component of the spreading too thin is also not really pushing. Not really giving it my all. Exercise was certainly an example. I often quit when it got uncomfortable. Yoga, somehow, called me to go further. And one day, I found out what happens if I just grin and bear it through those moments when a voice in my head had a tantrum and wants to stop.

There's something pretty amazing on the other side.

Ignoring the screaming in my head to stop (because hey, I'd already done more than I'd ever done before, right? That was good enough, right? Throw in the towel and go do something easier...), I carried on. At first it was hard. But then... it was easier. I foolishly took this a little too far so in the 6th interval I was flat out RUNNING. Not jogging, but in-danger-of-hyperextending-a-knee, beating-the-shit-out-of-my-heels running.

Yeah, I regretted that.

But I finished, and by the end of the 5 minute cooldown I was doing well, still flushed but back to easy breathing.

I'll be writing more, because I've scheduled 20 minutes a day for myself to write. 20 minutes. No bluffing. And the count is down to 00:09 so this one is done. Writing without a net.

Of toes and ice.

2011-02-27T22:18:00.000-08:00

A pedicurist once commented my toes were tight. This held no meaning for me, at least not until recently. In a yoga class, the instructor worked us into tree pose by first asking us to rotate and stretch the ankle, and then stretch the toes, spreading them as far as possible and grabbing the ground with them for a solid leg to stand on. The difference was impressive. Try it.

Had a great time with the Surface Interval Society (Blue Element Scuba's dive club) on Saturday. We explored the waters below a half inch layer of ice on Silverton Resevoir. The previous few nights had gotten down to very low temps (like 17). The dive was short (about 20 mins); our small group encountered one minor issue after another. In the end, I was the only one that didn't have a free flow, weighting issue or leaking dryglove. While I'd been skeptical about the dive when I arrived, once in the water I was comfortable and ready to go. As a firm believer of "call any dive at any time", however, I smiled and gladly packed it in with my buddy (but not before taking a few snaps of the beautiful view from under the ice) when he reported one hand was sloshing with water inside his not-so-dry glove after a short dive.

The water was cold, but two layers of wool socks plus a little heat pack in each boot kept my feet warm. (Thanks Debbie!) Hand warmth has never been a problem for me somehow; until recently I'd done all my cold water diving with a thin pair of warm water gloves. I've graduated up to a pair of 3mm gloves and my hands weren't too cold at all -- at least not in the water. The ice was beautiful. From the dock, we could see our bubbles gathered under the ice and found their way into larger groups of air forming pockets along the way of our path.

This wasn't really ice diving; the layer on the top of the water was thin and easy to break, only about 1/2 inch in most areas. It broke even easier by going horizontal to surface and using the impact of the tank to crack the surface, and then punching your way through resulting in little holes big enough for our heads, making us look like seals coming to the surface. We'd continue to break and play with the ice, which felt and sounded like sheets of glass. Care was required; sharp corners of ice can cut drysuits, but the large and small sheets of ice were beautiful as they floated on water, or atop each other. (The pic to the left isn't clear, but notice the chunks sliding across the ice surface.)

Out of the water, my hair froze. Somehow, the company around the picnic table and a cheese dog, some Cheetos and butter pecan cupcakes gave me all the warmth I needed and made it all worth it!

That did the trick.

2011-02-24T22:13:00.000-08:00

An hour of moving, freely, to music within a beautiful space populated with wonderful beings helps most anything. I've connected with an ecstatic dance group in Salem and it's just what I need! I swayed, bounced, and sweat my way through two 30 minute sets of amazing music.

It would seem the winter bounce has occurred. The winter doldrums lead me to a place where my energy flows like cold molasses. Historically, at the point where I begin to wonder if there is anything left inside of me, the death grip that winter has on my soul releases, and it begins to thaw and flow again.

On the one hand this past weekend was awesome; a four day weekend, each day filled by time with a number of my favorite people doing some of my favorite things. On the other, it all seemed somewhat muted, subdued. That feeling of disconnection... it made my heart ache. I get the most amazing help sometimes; I wonder how I can ever contribute to their lives as they do to mine.

The first stage of the return is almost more troubling for with it comes intense frustration with the creative hibernation that occurs in winter. Thankfully, my amazing partner listened to my rambling, and brought forth suggestions to use which are excellent tools to get me back on track. I'm so blessed.

I've felt very conspicuous this week. Despite starting late and struggling to keep the balance last week (a nice string of Chinese, Mexican AND Indian influences), I've met my February goal a few days early. Good stuff. But with it comes negatives. Frustrated that nothing fits. What used to fit now looks like crap; what used to not fit but now does still looks like crap. Also struggling to accept that the body I have spent a good part of my adult life learning to love and accept is changing (and not always in ways that I like). Yoga is having a powerful effect on me physically and energetically: grounding me, connecting me more deeply and showing me truths that are some work to process.

Running an errand today, I presented my driver's license to a beautiful, gentle young woman at the checkout. "Have you lost a large amount of weight?" she said, more as a statement than a question, after looking at my license and handing it back. I was kind of shocked; no one's said that before. "Um, yeah, I guess. But still working on it," I stammered. "You look great. You're on a roll. Keep it up," she said in a very sweet and gracious way. It was appreciated, but at the same time it's an oddly intimate query that just strikes me as odd sometimes.

Water, water, everywhere.

2011-01-30T17:37:00.000-08:00

Knowing the end of 2010 would be crazy busy, I let go my hopes of having one good diving weekend up in Seattle per month. Time was flying. After the Channel Islands trip was just one trip up north, then one day of diving in the Keys in December. I was doing well suppressing my usual enthusiasm, sublimating it with work on three fronts.

All was going well until playing around in the pool, followed by a hellish day assisting with a rescue class at Whalen Island. When a day of diving in the mud holes in the most horrendous Oregon coast winter weather thrills you -- that's a sign your ass needs to get into some real water.

With the big push to the launch of Blue Element Scuba and Adventure Center completed, I rather randomly selected January 28 as a day to hit the water, leaving it to the universe to let the rest fall into place. Most of my usual suspects were busy that Friday, but as usual the universe provides and I found myself with a fresh new dive buddy and two days of diving up north in the plans.

Excellent dives at Cove 2; called it after 55 minutes in 45 degree water because the feet were freezing. Time to investigate some thicker wool socks. I finally graduated from the thin gloves I've used to some true cold water gloves; they didn't fit well but did keep the hands warm. The lack of dexterity bugs me, but... whatchagonnado? Aside from one instance where I couldn't figure out why my inflator was stuck--it was because I was still pressing it--they are an improvement. Took some photos. Saw an octo right after we dropped, and many, many nudis.

Viz went to crap during the 2nd dive, but it was fun nonetheless.

Hung with Chris and Christy Friday night -- always a pleasure and a treat, and then headed to Redondo Saturday. We got up late, hung out with Christy for too long, and as a result got to the dive site a little later than planned. We did just one dive, going deep to the boat first and then heading north to run into the other sites, eventually making our way to the bug. Lots of sculpin, some nudis, and mostly big fun overall.

The fix has been applied. My soul is sated, for just a bit.

Deep meditation underwater.

2011-01-18T22:40:00.000-08:00

Saturday was a mixed bag of a day that included coastal weather from hell, personal challenges, unexpected search and recovery missions, and a slew of other reasons why the day should just have just totally sucked... however it was anything BUT sucktastic. Just goes to show that if you're spending it with the right people and doing the right things, all the other details don't matter much.

A strange unexpected highlight was the joy discovered in a deep underwater meditation. Sent down to play an unresponsive diver on the bottom, I stayed in place for almost 40 minutes. While diving isn't strenuous, you realize quickly how movement of any type keeps you warm; the drysuit and undergarment that was keeping me comfortable while moving turned into an icebox when at rest. It was only the last 10 minutes or so that were uncomfortable, however, and some in-place movement helped.

It was worth what I discovered in minutes 10-25. After settling on a bare sandy bottom in 1' foot viz I quickly exhausted anything of interest nearby, and I turned inward. Diving, even the simplest dip in a pool, clears my head and focuses my mind like nothing else. It's not unlike yoga in that you start with the breath; everything hinges on the breath. Closing my eyes I controlled and slowed my breathing, and quickly found myself having an intense inner-body experience (versus an out-of-body experience). This type of full body awareness usually takes me much longer to achieve, as I sit in practice on land, struggling to shed the layers of distraction that cling to me. Given I'd already shed most of that through the process of gearing up and entering the water, though, I was able to start from that place. Almost as simple as turning a glass on its side, I felt my awareness expand and flood down my spine to the tips of my fingers and the ends of my toes.

Full. In every way. What a glorious feeling. And it has a wonderful lasting effect, too.

Stillness did not come.

2010-12-29T05:37:00.000-08:00

Clearing my mind seemed impossible this morning, but it wasn't a pointless clutter that barged in. Rather, my breath carried a cadence of items, apparently borne from somewhere in my subconscious, of pairings that I wanted to bring into my life (breathe in), and those I wished to usher from it (breathe out). Not fighting it, the result was quite a powerful meditation in and of itself.

At once, a troubling illustration of many things I'm doing wrong in life, but yet an exciting tale for all the potential is represents. Life is pretty good now... just imagine how much greater it can be with these directions. When taken individually, each is fairly simple. The list is fairly plebeian so I won't bore you with it, but I did write down many I could remember.

Here I thought my limit of ten minutes was brutal; Kristi shared this link. One word. One minute. Go! Now that's a challenge. I'm going to add this to my morning routine.

Ten minutes.

2010-12-27T06:17:00.000-08:00

Throughout November-December I dabbled in a morning routine that included some quiet meditation, stretching, yoga, and in general a more regimented process. The results are in: the days where I kept this practice were glorious, with notable differences in mood, focus and productivity. This dabbling took me through different types of weather, times of the month and all the other things one might ascribe to the cause.

Focus on the flame.

This past week I left it behind. And boy... do I notice a difference. The holiday caloric bacchanalia has left me de-energized, demotivated, stiff, grumpy... you name it. Simply taking a deep breath was met with constriction and fight from the muscles in my abdomen.

Back on plan this morning. Which is going to include a small window for writing. The point is 1) have a limit 2) write without obsession of the details.

Meditating with dogs in the house resulted in a change in my intended practice (10-15 minutes of utter silence and solitude as I focused on breath was the intent). Instead of fighting it, I've worked it in. The dogs all approach me with questions in their eyes -- Why am I on the floor in the living room? Why am I staring at a candle sitting atop my drum set in front of me? Instead of shooing them away, I draw them in, cup their questioning little faces, transmit all the love I feel for them, and plant a kiss on their forehead. It never fails that both Shadow and Marissa will primly then sit down beside me, facing forward, and stare at the candle for a minute. They then look at me as if to say, "What are we waiting for?" After a few moments they will then meander away. Winston, instead, just loafs out beside me, content to bask in the moments.

What would we do without dogs? I don't want to find out.

Today, I voted.

2010-11-02T17:45:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up without significant concern for my health, safety, or well being.

I live in a state that mails me a ballot weeks before the election.

I have ample time to consider the options and investigate the candidates.

My computer and my mail delivers multiple independent sources of information about the candidates, their views, formal positions, and past voting history.

Instead of mailing, I filled out my ballot today, and drove it to a collection site just outside the court house. As I drove by on the street, smiling people collected my ballot and placed it into the box.

I have little concern that my paper ballot, which was clear and easy to complete, will be misinterpreted, discarded or misused.

I did this without worry of persecution, bodily injury, discrimination... without so much as the slightest inconvenience, really.

I voted. I hope you did, too, because before us there were many people who died in order for us to have this right. In other countries, people are fighting, dying, and pledging to die in the fight for something that--for us--is a given, an assumed, a right.

Some US citizens take it for granted so much that they don't even bother to do it: voter turnout rates are between 50-65%.

That means 35-50% of our citizens do not vote.

That's a shame.

Doggies lost and found.

2010-10-30T21:25:00.000-07:00

Arriving home last night, a friendly, medium sized black retriever mix ran right up to the guys as they excited the vehicle. As soon as I heard Scot report, "No collar..." what has become a familiar plan was put into action.

I ran into the house to put our dogs outside into the back yard. Opening the front door to call the dog in, he RUSHED across our front yard and into the door. What a friendly boy! He looked to have a disruption in the fur where a collar usually would be... that coupled with his friendly nature and overall good shape had us hopeful that he was a well cared for and loved dog who'd just wiggled out of his home.

We took him to the emergency vet clinic just down the street to see if they could ID a chip. None was found. So he stayed the night in a portion of our garage. That night I'd already posted an ad on Craigslist, and also submitted a Found Dog entry on the Marion County Dog Control site. Our Saturday would begin with trying to locate his owner.

Around 7ish Saturday morning, I'm lying in bed awake but... not quite awake. Our window is open a bit, and I hear a car moving slowly down the street with someone yelling a name out the window.

OMG! Someone's looking for a dog! Jumping out of bed and throwing on some clothes, I run outside, run a bit down the sidewalk and jump up and down waving my arms, trying to get the driver's attention although he's a few blocks away. As I dash inside, Kris comes outside and starts running down the street. After finding shoes and keys, I rush outside to find Kris walking back (keep in mind he's in his bathrobe) and he's able to tell me the car is one block over going the other way.

Tearing out, I locate the car two streets away heading toward me. Waving them over, I ask if they've lost a dog to which the driver replies, kind of incredulously, "Yes!" After I made him describe him (black lab/retriever mix, goofy) I said, "We have him! Found him last night!"

Many times we've come upon a dog who is clearly not where they are supposed to be. We drop everything to help, because that's what I pray someone would do if one of our furkids somehow got out on their own and were in danger. We've driven them back home thanks to tags with addresses, used rabies tags to track down owners, taken dogs to the shelter to be reunited with their owners, kept them overnight (or longer) as we tried to locate owners.

Last night we drove the neighborhood at 9pm thinking we might see someone out walking with a flashlight looking for the dog we'd found last night. It was a task well worth it if we could save someone a night of hellish worry -- I cannot imagine if Winston were nowhere to be found; I'd go positively crazy.

The guy is a neighbor, not very far, and we had met before at a neighborhood picnic over a year ago. He comes inside and we chat and he then heads out to the car with Oreo, as we learned the dog was named.

And what does he do? He walks out the door with Oreo, without a collar and without a leash, refusing the ones I had offered. Seriously? Oreo is a wonderful dog, but not well trained so he runs around -- including out into the road -- and the owner is yelling and gritting his teeth as repeatedly spits commands that Oreo clearly doesn't understand, and without a leash cannot be corrected for. Finally Oreo jumps into the back of the vehicle and off they go.

Here's hoping that Oreo received a warm welcome from a household that missed him, instead of a reprimand for something for which he was not responsible.

Willamette Valley Corn Maze worth every penny.

2010-10-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

We spent hours walking the muddy paths between towering stalks of corn in the 13 acre corn maze at Willamette Valley Fruit Company. While the cost was $8 (it was $7 during the week, jumped on the weekend), we had enough fun to make it worth every penny.

The endeavor is an interesting one. Asking the gentleman taking the monies how on earth it was done, he explained that a company took their logo, designed the image to fit their field size of 13 acres, and created large section maps which guides their cutting of what they don't want when the corn is about a foot tall.

The results were fantastic. The aerial photos almost look fake, but they are true! There were plenty of little activities for the kids (um... yeah... kids). The pump driven rubber duckie race and the corn cannon were our favorites.

We entered the maze during daylight, did tracks 3 and 2, and came out well after dark. I recommend a nighttime visit, but bring your flashlight and your muck boots because it's muddy. That was part of the fun, though, learning to ride the slide as you went along. All bets were on me to fall and land in the muck, which thankfully did NOT happen, although the ground almost sucked the shoe right off my foot more than once. As usual I lagged behind most of the night; whene

Their farm store, where we go about once a month to have our pick of their fantastic pies, was filled to the brim with yummy gourmet foods (their own jams, various types of seasonings, sauces, and such), the workers were doing a night shift of pie making to show everyone how it's done. Really, it just looks like making pies at home in the kitchen, just with more people.

We had made poor choices in footwear. Before heading to Venti's for a drink and dinner, we stopped off at home to change shoes. Off to one of my Salem favorites! We shared sweet potato fries, falafel plate and chicken yakisoba while we enjoyed the ambiance. That's one of the places in Salem that makes me feel I'm "home," thanks to the variety of people that come through. There's a diversity there (of age, style, ethnicity)... I wish that were a more accurate representation of Salem as a whole.

It's won't further the debate, but FCKH8 is hilarious.

2010-10-15T11:33:00.000-07:00

Some dudes marry dudes. Get over it.

Some chicks marry chicks. Get over it.

I support the right of same sex couples to commit fully to each other in their hearts, and in the eyes of the government. (Personally I don't care if it's called marriage, civil union, or whatever... I don't care what my het coupling is called, either. A judge "married" us. We were already committed in our own hearts.)

This video cracks me up, then again I'm not afraid of the F word.

In terms of whether it really builds a bridge to understanding or furthers the debate... I don't think so.

But it's still hilarious.

Here is the original, unbleeped version:

FCKH8.com Straight Talk About Gay Marriage from FCKH8.com on Vimeo.

And for those at work or who are put off by the F word, here is the bleeped version:

Oh tomato, let me count the ways I love thee...

2010-10-10T18:59:00.000-07:00

As a kid, the family joke was often about me and my ketchup. Every edible was festooned, dipped or drug through it before being eaten. Oddly enough, I HATED tomato soup. That changed early in my 20's, however, when Scot shared with me some tomato soup made by his Mom. It was simple, but luscious. Tasted like summer. A few years ago I endeavored to recreate it, and marveled at how simple the recipe is: 8 lbs of tomatoes, four medium onions, three celery stalks, salt, pepper, and butter. For the past few years I've canned a batch or two (or three) each year and shared it with others and enjoyed it through the damp Pacific Northwest Winters. It's perfect with a toasted cheese sandwich; nothing fancy, just Midwest redneck style: plain white bread w/ lots of butter and Velveeta.

(I also I LOVE pickles but HATE cucumbers.)

Today was the day. With an 8 lbs variety from a CSA like garden score on Craigslist and another 20 lbs of romas from a farm stand, I set about soup making. Always looking for a way to improve, I tried the Sauce Master that was gifted to me, thinking it might improve over the food mill I'd used in the past. To make a long story short: more setup required, it makes an awful mess, and the result is too much wastage.

Recently I made blackberry jam, and found that the juicing feature of the Bullet Express I'd gotten Scot for Christmas made FAST work of the task of mashing/seeding/pulping the fruit, and the result was compounded if you ran the pulp through 2-3 times. Each time it extracted more juice, each pass richer and thicker than the last. It made the most rich and velvety jelly; more like a smooth and perfectly seedless jam. It's as dark as night and as flavorful as the berries times ten.

So I figured it would do well with the tomatoes, too. I'd halved and quartered the tomatoes, and tossed them on the stove with the other components to cook down. Preparing the Bullet Express, I had the bright idea of placing the large cone shaped hopper from the Sauce Master on top, so I could easily funnel a large amount of tomatoes into the fairly small opening on the Bullet Express. Brilliant. Using a 4 cup Pyrex to ladle things in, it was working really, really well. Thick, rich juice was flowing out.

Scot stood behind me as I thrilled at my new improvement. Until, that is, I had an even better idea. He says that he saw the error in my ways but was dumbstruck to stop it. Thinking if filling the machine with one dump was good that two would be better, I quickly scooped up another four cups and dumped it in... problem is the base of the Bullet Express only holds about 4 cups, and then it would "back up" into the hopper I'd placed on top. However, the hopper just sat on top with the spout extending down a bit into the Bullet Express -- it was in no way a "closed system." Immediately, hot tomatoes starts to flow out onto the counter. Seeing no other option, I press the button to start the juicer, and tomato sauce flies out the spigot while it continues to pour out of the sides of the machine, and some even flies out the top of the hopper, splashing my white kitchen cabinets with a wave of red.

In situations like this, some people get angry. But... what good does that do? I realize how STOOPID what I just did was, and I started laughing hysterically. Scot, my loving, anal retentive, Type A husband, is appalled and disgusted at both my stupidity and the resulting mess. (But did he move to stop it? Noooooo... he claims to have been paralyzed by the thought of, "What part of this doesn't she understand!?") Kris comes running into the kitchen to see what the commotion is about and joins in the laughter over the tomato volcano I'd just created.

Tomatoes. Everywhere. Red. My cabinets are white. My floor is white. Or... they were. In short order, every kitchen towel is dirty, but the mess is cleaned up and I am happily juicing my way to soupy happiness. The batch was completed in good order, and the results are FANTASTIC. I took the pulp and ran it through three times, extracting as much tomato goodness as possible. All that was left was a rather dry pile of seeds and fiber. The soup is a beautiful red color, thick with a rich flavor without having to boil it down at all.

The batch currently cooking down is going to make marinara, then another batch of tomato soup.

With much less mess. I learned from my mistake the first time!

A videographer I am not.

2010-10-06T20:24:00.000-07:00

Here's a sample of what the conditions were like in the Channel Islands. While wanting to illustrate how moving the surge was, it dawned on me that my Lumix does video. So I shot a little one. It fails to illustrate what I really wanted to capture: the eel grass flowing over the bottom, extending a full 4-5 feet in one direction, then all the way back to 4-5 feet in the other direction. It was a beautiful, billowing vision, and moved you back and forth quite a bit. My apologies to Stephen for posting what one might think is just a long study of his behind. I swear, it's not. Not really. Not totally, anyway. I mean, no, not at all.

I ♥ Trader Joes.

2010-10-06T20:19:00.000-07:00

I was on a boat when the official press release came out. With the application for the liquor license, I knew it was going to happen. But a part of me didn't want to jinx it, so I didn't fall fully into belief...

But it's true.

Come 2011, I shall never again have to run to Tigard or Corvallis for my beloved Double Cream Gouda. Or the Australian beef. Cheap organic orange juice. Cornbread mix that must have crack in it. Cheap gourmet foods like an Italian cured meats sampler for just a few bucks. Triple Ginger Cookies!! Or the bazillion other TJ's products I adore. Reasonably priced, high quality, from a company that treats its employees very well. A score for all. And a boon for south Salem. That will no doubt improve the retain situation and draw more foodie interest to the area.

Congratulations, Salem! Perhaps all those emails and petitions did some good?

Channel Islands recap.

2010-10-05T21:48:00.000-07:00

I'm going to be real lazy here.

Photos on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2963579&id=6823595&l=b6e2bfd744

Trip recap on NW Dive Club. http://www.nwdiveclub.com/viewtopic.php?f=28&t=13751

In short, a fun road trip with friends that led to four days of nothing but diving was just what the doctor ordered. When the boat pulled away from the dock, all my responsibilities, worries and stresses were left behind. It was a chance get to know new friends better, spend some time with divers I hadn't seen in a while, and meet a few new people as well.

And dive. And dive. And dive again. I LOVED IT. The thrill of getting in the water so often and so easily overcame any sense of being tired. I was raring to go almost all the time. 16 dives in 4 days, some quite long. Most were shallow (less than 50fsw), but a few were 80-110fsw. My SAC was really good (matching really good divers around me). I was able to help some others, and gladly accepted help from others. A great group of divers.

It was cold water diving with a slight reprieve: water temps varied but were high 50's to high 60's. Most dives were without gloves or a hood, which made it feel wonderful. After the first day I stripped the 2nd layer of undergarment off, which left just the MK0 (moisture wicking bamboo layer) under my Fusion drysuit. Comfortable. Easy to don, and when we were out of the water I just threw on a t-shirt over the undergarment and ran around like that, taking in the sun.

It's refreshing to not give a worry about your hair, your makeup, your whatever. No one else cares, as long as you can play poker and talk diving. :) I'm a tomboy at heart, so that works for me. But I'll admit... divers are hot. There's something about a man all geared up that just... *swoon* And some of my diving friends are hotties to begin with. Put the two together... eye candy!

Diving with a group is just great fun. I love seeing a lot of divers in the water. A large group headed down together into the depths is like watching skydivers in slow motion. It's a visual that really thrills me.

We did San Clemente, then worked our way up. The sites were varied; from 40fsw to 110fsw (a few were deeper, but I didn't venture any deeper). Shallows, pinnacles, rocks to circumnavigate, kelp forests, open sandy patches... a variety of topographies. Overall the diversity of life was not as impressive as I'd hoped. Made me think fondly of the good old PNW, and think of a trip up to Canada...

But sharks, bat rays, sea lions, sea hares, giant sea bass, fish galore, etc. Wow.

This evening I enjoyed a new treat: downloading dive data from the 'puter instead of entering it manually. All the info including visual profiles into MacDive with just a few clicks. NICE. On the wish list now:

- New computer w/ air integration and download capabilities.
- New solid fins.
- New kick ass light.

Anyone need some freelance work they want to hire me for? =-)

On a boat!

2010-09-28T21:50:00.000-07:00

Woo hoo! We are about to head out to sea! I'm with a gaggle of divers from Salem aboard the Vision, a vessel from Truth Aquatics in Santa Barbara, CA. The past 24 hours was a fantastic drive down friends, two divers I've known for a bit but have really started to build a friendship with as of late. We were really looking forward to a road trip together to have fun and those discussions you can really only have at 3am on the road. The trip would be a success even if it stopped here we had so much fun.

The liveaboard experience is new to me. It's right up my alley -- while of course there will be DIVING DIVING DIVING I also enjoy group experiences and social interactions of a large group that has to really spend some time together -- and being on a boat for 4 days certainly fits the bill. Plus, I get to curse and belch and just be "one of the guys" which I really enjoy, as much as I joke about getting a case of "testosterone poisoning." Once a tomboy...

I kinda feel like a princess, though; the accommodations are bunks three high, some single some doubles. I have a little corner room though that actually has room to stand and change, and no bunk to climb into. I'm very thankful for that because the whole stack 'em high bunk situation might leave me feeling a bit claustrophobic.

Can't wait to hear the engines, stand at the bow and cross the bar and begin our travels. While I'm dead tired -- only a few poor bits of sleep throughout the last 24 hours -- I intend to spend a lot of time looking at the water tonight as we cross.

Graham, the captain, just announced his welcome! It's almost time!

NW Dive Club dives at Redondo.

2010-09-19T02:06:00.000-07:00

What a knockout weekend. Stopped at Jonathan's Friday night for a collaborative dinner (variations on mac and cheese... fantastic results). Didn't get on the road until 11pmish; got into a hotel in Federal Way around 2:30am thanks to bad road conditions due to rain and pooling.

The point of that late night trip was to be a few minutes away from Redondo in the morning, and not 4.5 hours! Arrived around 9:20, got the last parking spot in the front part of the lot which was filled almost entirely w/ club divers. Awesome! The rain stopped and the clouds parted early in the morning for us and made way for gorgeous skies and enough sun that I'm burnt!

Met so many people I don't remember them all, but highlights were two new dive buddies I hope to share the waters with again, Kriss and Tami. Got a chance to talk to Bob again, and met Lynne finally. Put faces to many screen names, and there's certainly a few I'd like to talk with a lot more! Not to play favorites or anything, but I'd have to say the hilight was meeting John Rawlings. Oogled his gear, stood by quietly and listened to some conversations, and was wrapped in a big hug as I left. There's a guy with some great energy.

Viz was fantastic, the experience was the polar opposite of our visit two weeks ago! Calm waters, excellent viz... 30 ft (plus in some parts, minus in others). I took a few okay shots, but my favorite, of the grunt sculpin, didn't turn out. Saw one octo, and heard of a juvenile wolf eel hanging around. Bob has a fantastic photo of him. Two great dives that included dealing with a lost fin and some beyond basic underwater communication with my buddy.

The best part? I was warm AND dry! New undergarments made a wonderful improvement. It's still less than what many would dive (a White's MK0 and MK1 w/ thick socks) it left me feeling pretty toasty. The drysuit even fit BETTER I would swear. Niiiiiiice.

Great people, good food, great dives... and even a PUPPY! How much better could it get!?

Corgi belly flop.

2010-09-15T17:52:00.000-07:00

Cutest.
Thing.
Ever.

Corgi Belly Flop - watch more funny videos

We dove Triton Cove, eventually.

2010-09-12T22:32:00.001-07:00

P1070336
Originally uploaded by lavachickie

Something happens when certain people get into a car. The drive up should have taken 3-4 hours turns into... lessee, we left at 7:30am-ish and got into the water at... 4pm.

Had something to do with Voodoo Donuts, lugging gear at the apartment, buying bins to protect the car's trunk, multiple coffee stops, rest area stops, playing with his new car and swapping drivers, shooting the breeze at Hoodsport 'n' Dive... aha, finally, the water!!

Triton Cove is a very accessible, easy and basic site with a gentle slope; initially there is some rubbly rock structure with some vegetation housing the usual suspects. Most notably... gobys! OMG the gobys were everywhere. I love these little guys and and at some point it was like, "Eh, there's another goby."

The structure and vegetation gives way to a somewhat bare sandy bottom with desolate outcroppings of a leaf of vegetation or a plumose and assorted little life around it now and then. You never know what the occasional discarded beer bottle holds, either.

A long dive, almost an hour, down to 70 and back up. My dive buddy donned a steel 95 and compensated for an air consumption discrepancy between us almost perfectly. Saw lots of awesome critters. Took a few photos but then put the camera away and just got lost in the dive.

Magic Beans indeed.

2010-09-09T21:36:00.000-07:00

Runs up to the airport are not to be wasted. When I set Scot off to California earlier this week, after dropping him off at the wee hour of 5:30am, I headed by Voodoo Donuts on the way home. Tonight, when I fetched him and Kris both from the 'port, I suggested we grab dinner at one of the pods of food carts that have popped up in PDX in the past few years.

The concept has gotten a lot of press in various places, for the variety you can present in a small area, the low start up costs, and the value for the customer who can benefit from a great cook working with low overhead.

Taking a quick look online, I found the pod at Mississippi and Skidmore, easily accessed off of I-5. The web page for the area said carts were open until 10pm during the week.

Um... no.

We were there at 7pm, and only two out of nine carts there were open. Kind of a bummer, but the gleaming yellow of Magic Beans called to us. Okay, it was the single offering that drew us in: falafel. I love falafel. LOVE. FALAFEL.

"You've not had my falafel," the cutie behind the counter assured me. "It's made with black eyed peas today." Apparently he experiments with his beans. Not just the run of the mill garbonzo here, nosiree!

For $6 you get fries--fantastic, tasty, well seasoned shoestring fries. Normally I HATE shoestrings. But these were a perfect balance of crisp and tender, with some awesome spices on them. YUM. No ketchup to be had, but some malt vinegar if you choose.

Photo from Magic Beans' FB. Ours wasn't QUITE so
generously stuffed w/ veggies. But it was good.

The falafel comes on a moderate sized thin pita, and is filled with three good sized balls of deep fried mashed bean goodness (FALFEL!), a cucumber salsa, lettuce, carrots (pickled?), feta cheese, peperoncini and tzatziki.

YUM.

Wash it down with a glass of iced tea which you can spruce up with one of two infused sugar syrups: tonight's choices were a cinnamon cardamom or orange anise and were quite heavenly (I tried the former). Easy access, ample street parking in the area, and covered seating. Despite the lack of options, I'm glad we stopped by.

"Yee-haw!" at the Redondo Rodeo.

2010-08-27T08:38:00.000-07:00

"All you blog about anymore is diving!" a friend said to chastise me. "What about your gustatory adventures, your hippie cuddle-slut crap, or your crafts?"

Um... yeah. I'm still doing all of the above, and admit that elements of each do deserve reporting. Time is at a premium, however, and the truth is often the more blogworthy things you do, the less time there is to actually blog about them. Oh, the irony!

Things will balance out here in a bit, in part due to the intervention my husband sprung on me. See, being gone 4/4 weekends diving seemed just fine to me, until he pointed out things like 1)my dogs don't know who I am and 2)we have a house to maintain and he was pretty sure we had an agreement to do that together, equally and 3)he'd like to see me now and then, too.

He pointed out that IF that was what I really wanted to do, that was fine, we'd just need to sit down and talk about certain things and make sure everything was covered. That would require me to give up some freelance agreements, get some help in other areas, etc. but it WAS doable. That's one thing I love about him; ultimately his view of the world is, "Decide what you want, then figure out how to do it." Reality is, though, I miss my dogs, too; I miss a lazy Saturday, too; and there are other things in life I want to get done. The compromise that works without giving up much of anything is diving twice a month.

Or we move to Seattle. %-) Not happening.

Dive report for 8/21-8/22:

We drove up Friday afternoon, hit a pet expo for Petwerks, hung out a few of our fav shops in the area, and picking up tanks for everyone and the assorted gear Ivan and Rhonda needed. This allowed us to meander to our hotel in no hurry. What a relaxing change! Later we met Ivan and Rhonda in Olympia for dinner at Budd Bay Cafe for dinner. Good company, but a general, "Meh," on the food.

Up early on Saturday we met Ivan and Rhonda at Alki; both were needing some help, he getting back in the water for the first time in a long time, and she getting in the water for her first time after certification. They both did great, and we hope to share a day like that one with them again! Two dives in Cove 3 were easy and fun. Wish I'd had my camera (Kris was using it) because I spit my reg out laughing so hard when we came up to the buoy and there is Kris, sitting on the block, kicked back and lounging in style as he watched the guys do something. It just struck me as hilarious.

A great dinner w/ Chris, Christy, Megan, Ivan, Rhonda, Scot, Kris and I at Vince's capped off a great day. Too. Much. Italian. Food. All I can say is how can you NOT like hard breadsticks smeared in butter?

Sunday was just the three of us, and we vacillated on where to go. We wanted to explore some place new, but all agree having a member of the group that knows a site is much more fun than poking around yourself. Also seemed like each one we chose had an issue. Parking was limited or small (we had the truck); no facilities. On and on. So we went to the old fallback: Redondo.

Diving Redondo at the dead bottom of a 10 foot swap results in just a little bit of current. Teeny bit. We deployed our dive buoy (first time I'd used it). I went down to find the big rope leading deep to the boat as that was our plan. It was right where I left it. ;-) The first drop together into craptacular viz landed us right on the small rope; we'd been ahead of the the large rope when we started to accommodate for current (thinking it would land us in the right place). Wearing 100's but weighted for 80's, we all took the express elevator down (love that!) but still missed it. Quick dive plan change to follow the small rope and not go deep. Leading, I figured it would ease up as we descended.

Um, no.

At 45 we're hanging onto the rope and trailing out like flags in the wind. Current in low viz is something that keeps me up at night, so this dive was actually awesome as I confronted it. But, it wasn't making for a fun dive, or one where three people could reasonably stay together. I thumbed it, and we crawled back up the rope. Hanging out for a moment at 15, the current switched! It was much milder, so after convening on the top we head down again, going for the pipe and then out along the trail of goodies to be seen. It's been a while since I've dove Redondo. (A "while" being relative to my short diving life so far.)

Someone said vis at beginning of slack was good. I knew incoming waters would stir up the muck, but methinks that person (HALLIE!) was pulling my leg because at the bass boat, vis was 2-3 feet... and that was an improvement over some pockets. (Ok, I can't blame Hallie as he had been topside in his boat and was relaying what someone else reported to him.) After a few circles of the boat looking in and under every nook and cranny, I waited on the outgoing line to the next attraction, thinking that obviously my buds would continue around the boat until they stumbled upon me. Nope. I lost both S & K, but recovered S after about two minutes with some light play. I remained on the rope and played the light while S did a search. No luck. After a few minutes we followed our dive plan and headed up to a stop, then to find K on the surface.

We bobbed on the surface and contemplated... we had enough air for another short descent. No one jumped up and said, "Yeah, let's go!" So I said, "Um... I'm cold..." and another chimed in and said, "Yeah, me too!" The diving wasn't fantastic that day, but 30 minutes leading in challenging conditions made for a good dive to me.

Diving in Sea Monkeys.

2010-08-15T15:11:00.001-07:00

My first set of pictures worth looking at!

A muse of creative energy hit me Friday night, keeping me up until 1:30am. That would have been fine, but the alarm went off at 4:45a, because I had to leave at 5:30a to pick up Jonathan in Gresham and head to Sund Rock where a group of our underwater friends were diving. (Most made a weekend of it staying Fri and Sat night.)

This would be my first time in Hood Canal! Didn't do open water there, and had never been to any of those sites in all the trips I've been making up north.

The ride up seemed quick; fueled by stops for food and caffeine we shared samplings of our musical tastes. My mood soared thanks to the remaining creative buzz--and I was headed toward a date with Poseidon! (It had been a whole 13 days since I'd been in the water.)

A quick stop and some gab at Hood Sport 'n' Dive, we had our pass and we squeezed the Beetle into a spot in the small lot at Sund Rock. Friends were in various stages of dress and undress as they prepped to go in. Smiles, waves and hugs ensued.

We got into the water; I promptly tripped over a rock and ended up flat on my back. Christopher was kicking back in the water and came to my aid. The water was oddly warm, some 62 degrees!

I'll be honest, we missed the North Wall. (Yeah, I now know: descend the buoy to the base, and go north. Boom, you hit the wall. Duh.) But just like wrong turns sometime create the best road trips, so was the case here. We went deepish (90 fsw) through two thermoclines, taking the temp down to about 50. The last was at around 65 fsw and right below it was some nice clear vis... but it was very dark, which is cool in its own right.

Sea whips are amazing, and very striking with nothing else around as they gracefully stretch up with their frilled edges. We glided over the ropes and cables (some amazing groupings of life on those)! At this point I hadn't taken any photos, I was keeping up with Zoomie McZoomZoom. ;-) We found ourselves looking at a very liberal sprinkling of thumb sized nudibranchs, translucent with white tips against the dark green and red seaweed. I was trying to get positioned for a photo when J starts tugging at my arm. I'm thinking, "Leave me the heck alone, I'm busy here!" but then I look and just to the side of what I'm focused on is a nudibranch larger than any I've ever seen! Large and frilly with white tips, I'm shocked to see another one just a few feet away... and then ANOTHER one. And... another one, but this time brown and orange tips. And... another one! And... a PILE of them, about 5 of them! For a moment I thought they were dead but no... they were doing quite the opposite of death, it seems.

(Insert porn music here.)

We were above a very large field FILLED with these awesome large, colorful nudis. Consulting my book... Giant Dendronotids? Wow!

After poking around for a while longer, J signaled his pressure reading meant the ride was over, and we headed toward a leisurely safety stop and then surfaced near the south wall exit. My tank was still sporting almost half its contents. (It amazes me how much my air consumption has gone down since Maui.)

Not the dive we planned, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way!

After a nice relaxing (and warming) surface interval, we headed back into the water w/ Stephen. To the buoy and down to the base, head due north and TADA, the north wall! We poked and crawled along, and I totally lost myself taking photos. S gave some excellent technique advice (the most complicated communication I've ever had underwater, and I learned not only something about photography but also about communicating underwater).

We poked around slowly. Looked in a few holes, crevasses and under ledges but saw none of the big players--which oddly enough is fine; it's the little guys that I love!

During the si, Dan had commented on the thick layer of krill that was affecting light at depth. He wasn't kidding; we went through a large band of Sea Monkeys, the water almost murky with them!

At some point J peeled off from us due to air, and S and I continued to slowly poke around the wall, then up and over into the fishbowl. I could have stayed there for one whole hour long dive thanks to the wonderful lighting and great array of stuff to see.

Once out of the water, the parking lot was emptying and we had a very leisurely time stripping off and packing our gear, chatting with Hilo and basking in the sun.

Good times.

I was conflicted; on the one hand I really wanted to socialize with everyone (they were having a pot luck) but having to drive home meant if I did it would be another very late night and on three hours of sleep that didn't seem wise. So J and I headed on down the road, stopping briefly at Hoodsport Winery for a taste. The cabinet behind the wall was filled with medals; I noticed most were from the Indiana State Fair and other related contests! I see why -- by far their best production was their raspberry, a rich and fragrant sweet wine. (I loved the sweets from Oliver Winery when we lived there.)

Then it was on to the casino where multiple plates of crab met their end at our table. Before leaving, a video slot called Kitty Glitter turned my $20 into $70, and I called it quits right there. That pretty much paid for my dive weekend.

Thanks, universe! Already planning for next weekend; we're helping some friends find their comfort in the water Saturday (somewhere boring like Dash Point) and then something like Alki on Sunday.

Does honesty pay? It better.

2010-08-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

This evening I received a newsletter from Salem Cinema that drove an icicle through my heart, and brought tears to my eyes. Such heartfelt and frank communication is refreshing, and startling.

As it should be. Salem Cinema needs your help. To be frank, many things in your community which you love and cherish need your help.

Economic struggles have affected almost everyone in some way or another, I'm not trying to downplay that. But many in our culture remain in the comfortable area that gives them choices. (And some who think they have no choices have simply shackled themselves to things, by choice... and might benefit from rethinking if those choices best forward their live's goals.)

Now more than ever, the votes we cast with the dollars we spend matter, especially within our own communities -- be that physical geographic communities or other niche communities that are connected by technology.

Think about where your dollars are going. Do they represent your heart, mind and values? If you value the arts and independent cinema in Salem, do your dollars spent on cinema reflect that? If not, why? And is there something you could do about it?

If you go to movies once or more a month and have any interest in non mainstream movies, do you go to Salem Cinema at least once a month? If not... give it a try. Try something different. If you don't... in the future you might not have the option.

In our world of ever available abundance (or what is at least marketed as such) we often take things for granted, not to notice their importance and value until they are sadly gone. In our zeal for more more more at a lower and lower price, we create a race to the bottom in which true value is thrown to the wayside, not even considered in lieu of a low price tag. Should we wake up and realize one day that, hey, wait, in a commoditized world there IS a great value in quality and service, we find that our choice is gone... and we are left only with the cheapest option that comes without quality or service.

Wake up before that happens, again. I do not believe that a future occupied only by Wal-Mart and McDonald's is a foregone conclusion.

Loretta's heartfelt message has made me realize that even while I strongly feel and share that sentiment... my own actions need a revamping.

Thanks for the wake-up, Loretta.

The gateway to 2012?

2010-08-05T23:38:00.000-07:00

It was mentioned today the recent squirrely-ness of life was attributable to a cosmic event that is the gateway to the big one in 2012. On the one hand, prophetic ramblings interest me not; I'm far more convinced in the human mind's ability to appropriate and distort to one's liking events after the fact than the chance of a powerful, mystical sense of foresight.

But this whole 2012 mumbo jumbo has made me wonder: in this culture that often shoots itself in the foot and creates their own self fulfilling prophecies... if we push the idea that this IS a time of awakening, of rising to a higher consciousness... might it just happen?

And why should we care if it was a cause or an effect?

Wouldn't that endeavor be better than listening to stories of strife, murder and rape on the evening news?

And the beat goes on.

2010-08-01T22:44:00.000-07:00

K and I had some great dives at Alki Cove 2 this weekend. S was sick and ordered out of the water for two weeks by his doc, so it was the A and K show all the way this weekend. Hit some dive shops, picked up some deals, hit the water, hung with the klan of Chris and Christy... it was all good. More photos.

A lot has changed since December. I've lost almost 50 lbs, blood pressure is now normal, and heart rate is reduced, too. This is all well and good, but... I now get too cold when driving the drysuit with minimal thermal protection. A medium length dive in 53 degree water left me cramping and shivering. I'm going to add thermal items slowly until I arrive at a good solution.

After finding and patching a small pinhole in the suit I am once again diving dry. I picked up some UV Tech to hopefully slow the wear on my wrist seals; I noticed a few cracks and discoloring. Tried talc to ease the donning of the suit at the wrists. WOW. A little on the skin and the seal and... smooth and easy!

Oh, and I got to drink yummy adult beverages out of little plastic sand buckets at The Rock.

How hot is it in Indiana?

2010-07-23T08:29:00.000-07:00

Thanks to my sis-in-law Val for this one:

Because you know, "There's more than corn in Indiana," the slogan of Indiana Beach. (Yeah, there's soybeans, too!)

Has great visibility returned to the Puget Sound?

2010-07-21T05:48:00.000-07:00

P1010231
Originally uploaded by lavachickie

Saturday we walked into A2Z Scuba and were welcomed by Amy and Tom with hugs and a shout of, "Viz is GREAT this weekend!" Music to my ears, for while I enjoy my cold water diving, I have to admit that the pea soup was getting me down.

Our trip up had been leisurely; we were weekending with a new diving friend. Three hours together in a metal box can be trying on any relationship, and it's often telling of those in their nascent stages. And a whole two days... By the time we got home at 12:30am Monday morning, however, it was clear we'll be traveling together again.

We were slow, but that was all part of the plan. We were in search of water, and enjoying the company in the meantime. After hanging at Amy's for a bit and picking up miscellany such as a reel, changing a computer battery, buying some weights to round out the set, etc. we headed to Les Davis.

Parking a crew cab longbed pickup in that lot is... a challenge. Luckily, there was a diving instructor at the end with a big truck and he and crew had just gotten out of the water. We waited patiently for about ten minutes and he gave us his spot. We love you, man.

Beautiful clarity at the entry. This made poking through the eel grass really fun, lots of great little critters to see. At my favorite spots amongst the slabs, around 65 ft, it murked up a bit, but was still good compared to the last times I'd been there. I noticed the plumose seemed to be less packed in; the areas that used to be covered were more sparse. Lots of fish. A few small nudies. The usual suspects.

And jellies. LOTS of jellies.

My systems were going well; I'd spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure my seals were *perfect*. At the end, I was damp. Not all over, and not soaked. Just the upper left quadrant was damp. (Chatting with Norm a few days later he pointed out the valve could be sucking water if I keep the suit too lean. That may in fact be the problem because I can't find anything else. Next time...)

Air consumption continues to improve. Since Maui I've pretty much always come up with more air than those I'm diving with. Sweet. Admittedly, they are air hogs, but...

We only did one dive there due to time; we were considering a night dive that evening and two dives the next day; this meant we had to scoot back to Amy's for fills, then get some dinner, clean up and head out to see a friend and his band play at 9pm, and maybe see the water again at 11pm.

At dinner I enjoyed an AMF, ordered by my friend to calm my attitude, because I was sporting one. And boy, did it fit the bill. Yummmmmy! And one of those on an empty stomach after diving had me smiling and giggly and... two would have been bad, bad news.

By the time all that was done and the choice was night dive or head back to the hotel to sleep the answer was clear; we were falling asleep where we stood, so no night dive.

We're so lame.

The next morning we got up and enjoyed a hearty breakfast at Black Bear Diner. I'd gotten a great deal at the Best Western in Federal Way; it was leagues above the other cheapies we've stayed at there and I'd so do it again in a heartbeat.

It was late morning and we had no trouble finding parking at Alki. That was my first time there and I LOVE IT. Easy access, great view of Seattle across the water, multiple dive sites right there... I see why this is so popular. Can't wait to dive it at night, too. Looking down at the entry, it was crystal clear. Went to about 65 following our friend who was taking macro shots I love following a photographer because they go slow, and that gives me time to poke around for critters which is what I'm down there to do!. Created some inventive underwater hand signals at the boat. (How do you say, "There's a gunnel right inside the lip of the boat in front of you and across from me?")

I hung out with a goby for a long time... they are SO cute for some reason.

Two great dives at this site. Can't wait to go back.

I shucked four pounds of weight from my gear, and had no troubles at all. The last dive was perhaps one of the best dives I've ever had in cold water speaking of comfort and ability. I admit I switched from the drysuit to the BC for buoyancy; there's just something amiss with the suit. I'm going to try to tinker with the valve setting next time but I have to admit I like the feel of keeping the suit slim and just using the BC. (I started using the drysuit using the BC, then switched to using the suit after reading that's how you're "supposed" to do it but in the interim have found about a 50/50 distribution of who does what, so I went back for a try.)

I've gotten seven dives in since I had The Bad Dive with Amy at Les Davis. The drysuit failure was fixed after that dive, and I've not had any feelings of anxiety like I did there (comfortable enough that I chose to dive solo at Whalen Island a few of those times, too). Whatever it was, it passed. Bizarre.

Nightlife in Salem, OR.

2010-07-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

On Thursday night I sat with a handful -- and I mean just a handful -- of people at The Grand Theater watching Sonos, an inventive acapella group. For $10, I would think this wonderful group would have drawn a much larger crowd... and a more diverse crowd. The pieces were a time or two negatively impacted by a bad mix (lead vocal being drowned by a backup), but the energy, skill and inventiveness shone through. I love watching people of talent and skill really putting energy into a performance; I'm moved by their commitment and energy. Makes me remember that so many wonderful things are possible on this rock, despite all of our troubles.

Afterward, around 9pm, we stood on the sidewalk out front talking. The night was warm and breezy, very comfortable. The streets were dead. Not a person seen in any direction you look. I'd see more people on the street in my neighborhood than you find downtown.

Whalen Island 7/5/10

2010-07-05T23:02:00.001-07:00

Whalen Island 7/5/10
Originally uploaded by lavachickie

The valley, mountains, forest and waters of Oregon are what drew me here. The drive out to Pacific City has always been a favorite for it delivers all of those.

Time alone has been a desire of mine, lately, moreso than usual. A gorgeous day with beautiful shades of green rising up to a crystal clear blue sky, a good mix of Massive Attack on the iPod, and the wonderful curves of OR-22 made for a wonderful morning. That road's curves begged to be hugged, and the straights needed the dust blown off of them. My little bug and I were just the team to do it.

Spent the day with some of The Usual Suspects and more diving in 0-3 ft viz in the ponds. More time to just do little self imposed tasks in the murk. Dove with my camera for the first time (Lumix in a Panasonic case). Despite the viz, I got off a few shots but not of anything exciting.

After the first dive, I curled up on my blanket behind my car and napped. What a simple, sublime pleasure. The ground hummed her song beneath me, and the spot felt like it had been moulded to my body. With a towel on my second tank as a pillow, I was as comfortable as if I were at home in bed. A cool breeze made a blanket necessary. Can you believe it? Laying in the sun, wearing a black lycra skin, and being cold!? In July!?

As someone who is usually busy with planning, executing, or planning to execute, the day gave me space for a welcome respite from anything other than simply... being. There was a simple joy in just sitting around with others--sometimes in silence--in the sun and the breeze.

Tiki porch project.

2010-07-03T15:09:00.001-07:00

Tiki porch from hot tub
Originally uploaded by lavachickie

One Saturday recently we went wild and turned what was a very uninspired corner of the porch into a nicer area to hang. The end of the porch had been nasty yellowed corrugated fiberglass, brittle with age. We tore it off, painted new framing white, installed the corrugated metal (and Scot nearly cut off ONLY two toes because he was handling the sheets while wearing open toed sandals), tacked the reed fencing to the walls, fashioned a bar, painted a found spool, reappropriated a yard fountain we put in a few years ago, and found bar stools cheap on Craigslist. Scot did an awesome job making wall mounted tiki torches from metal plumbing supplies and wine bottles, and at night this place an awesome spot to hang.

The water's just fine.

2010-06-28T06:30:00.000-07:00

Spent Sunday poking around the estuary tidal waters of Whalen Island with Kris and Scot, along with The Usual Suspects. While not exciting, it's easy access to approx 30 ft of water. Not much to see, but there's more than in my hot tub, which is my measuring stick for whether something is worth diving or not. Crab, little flounder, sculpin, rock fish, greenling (?) and a small ling cod.

As a new diver, many of these things and more are in the water with you; just unnoticed due to a focus on the process of diving, or a lack of eyes attuned to finding things that tend to camouflage themselves. It's very exciting to see (recognize, ID, remember) even the most mundane of things.

My unexpected (and at the time unexplained) discomfort at Les Davis was gone, not a lick of nervousness or anxiety. Talking with others, sounds like you never fully retrain the reptile brain that hates descending in poor viz. That was reassuring, as I thought myself somehow deficient for not having "gotten over it" yet. Talking to Norm, I noted ascents in crappy viz didn't bother me at all, for I was focused on my 'puter for depth and ascent rate. "So focus on it when you go down."

Um... oh yeah. Duh. What a brilliant, and simple, suggestion. While the dive only allowed me to test this to 30 ft, it worked like a charm. With tide coming in bringing a lot of silt all the same distractors were there.

Despite great attention paid to the neck and wrist seals, which were seated perfectly even on my neck-less neck, the dive was not dry; my shirt was soaked through on the first dive. I've got to find the culprit. First a complete visual of the seams and seals, then the body of the suit tonight. If the culprit isn't found, then the first task the next time in the water is to anchor me down to something, fill up the suit and with help try to find where the air is coming out.

Two great Salem businesses that deserve mention.

2010-06-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

From the daily email of mouth watering specials at Word of Mouth (a fantastic place to eat that I have not been to enough lately):

Troy and the good people at Santiam Bicycle, 388 Commercial Street downtown, graciously donated a bike rack to all of our bike-riding customers. It is in the side yard of the bistro, the State Street side. Now you can ride your bike to breakfast, eat all the Creme Brulee French Toast you want and burn it off on the way home. In fact, you might have enough calories to make it to Woodburn. If you ride your bike here and forgot your lock, feel free to open the back gate and stash your bike in our back yard.

How cool is that? Awesome. I love Santiam Bicycle; we bought our bikes there when we moved here and they were so helpful, and gave me no gruff about being a fat girl looking for a bike!

So eat at Word of Mouth. And buy stuff at Santiam Bicycle.

Two steps forward, one step back. But I've turned it into two steps forward from there.

2010-06-17T05:06:00.000-07:00

This long and rambling brain dump probably won't interest anyone. You've been warned. =-)

Asked the Big Boss for the day off, and did something crazy: ran up to WA for the day. The solitary drive time was needed (and put to good use; the road is a great place to think and plan). I was meeting up with Amy from A2Z Scuba to dive. I'll refer to her as Amy(2) for clarity. Later I was hanging with Chris and Christy (along w/ their wonderful kids) so I considered it a full day and drive time well spent.

Amy(s) and I went to Les Davis, knowing pretty much the entire Sound was a silty, summer solstice time mess. But what the hell. As wonderful as my last dive was (also at Les Davis), this one was the slap in the face that I initially felt shoved me back a step. But after evaluation, quite the contrary.

I'd had a good night's sleep, ate something good for breakfast, avoided coffee. While I don't know her well, I'm comfortable with Amy(2), and had not a thing in the world to worry about. Using a steel 100 and thinking my kit was still overweighted, I left 4 lbs on shore this time.

So why did I feel really unsettled when we got into the water? That's usually my "Ahhhh..." moment. I told her this, and she was positive and supportive. Water was silty, but vis was not the worse I've seen. We swam out even with the pier and began to drop and... everything in my body said, "NO." But why I had no idea. I thumbed. We surfaced, and I'm sorting through my head trying to figure out what is up with me. For days I was looking forward to getting in the water!

We went in toward shore a bit and dropped down in only 15 ft to get started, then followed the bottom down to the reef. Immediately, the wonder and joy of it all took the edge off. (Yes, silty water, seaweed and little crabs are all it takes for me.) Current was noticable, and shouldn't have been a problem... but it was. I seriously have not dove that poorly since my OW class! OMG, was it bad. I kept wanting to fix whatever was going wrong in my head, instead of just relaxing, going slow, and going with the flow. In that internal fight, I forgot what I should have done: visualize, breathe deep, slow down. Then slow down some more.

I was *fighting* the water, arms and fins spazing out.

Amy(2) hung effortlessly while I flailed around. Finally I got things in order, and we set off. Something wasn't right, though; usually I can establish decent buoyancy in the suit pretty quickly, but I would get it and then shortly after, "Bottom, here I come!" WTF? Initially things were okay, but over time, I put so much air in the suit I should have been the Michellin Man; it was clearly escaping. The exhaust port was set right. I'd not asked for help with the neck seal, though. Fact of the matter is: I can't get it right without help. I got a little damp last time I dove because I didn't ask for help (but the suit kept air fine, just a quick shot down the back when I moved my neck in an extreme motion), but this time I literally dumped water out of the boots when I was done. This suit kept me dry for every PNW dive I've done except the last two.
Once down, viz was bad, but it was still worth being there. Nudis, a rat fish, lots of rock fish, scallops, crabs -- the usual suspects. For the first part of the dive the suit held, but then I started feeling cold so I knew I had more than just a quick shot of water in with me. By the deepest part of our dive, the lack of ability to keep air in the suit made the squeeze really uncomfortable, and restricted mobility which really sends my comfort level bottoming out.

While Amy(2) paused to photograph something, I had a little dance with an eddy caused by a V-shaped area of the artificial reef, banging into one of the slabs. Heading in one direction it pushed me down, then back and around and... oh, hello plumose anemone! Didn't mean to actually KISS you.

Even in Coz during my first dives after certification in strong currents, I never banged into anything. A certain level of anxiety + buoyancy issues + currents + bull in china shop syndrome was creating an unhappy Amy. That was the last straw. Upon evaluation, what really happened was it broke whatever confidence I had in the water at that moment. I literally felt something click in my head and I said, "That's it. It's over." Calmly, I went over to Amy and signed "Me, problem, up." She gave me a good looking over and took my hand and we started to slowly ascend up the slope, did a safety stop, then surfaced.

Bless Amy(2), I didn't want her to have to "work" that day, but it's clear why she's a loved instructor. Supportive and positive; I can't count how many times I heard, "Oh, don't worry, you're fine!"

That was it for the day.

Driving home, I analyzed not only that dive but my head around diving recently in general. I came to some conclusions.

1. I need to relax. Not in the water, but about the water. I an passionate about diving and will be focused on it for years to come. My path will be long, and it will take time. I've been putting a lot of thought into where I'm going (probably DM) and how to get there. I had a calendar all marked up with Rescue, the UTD Essentials class, etc. All that can wait. What I want to do is get to 50 dives, with the next 19 being dives that just focus on doing what I already know how to do, just doing it better. No rush. Don't rush or do crazy things to get a chance to get into the water. Hit the coast for a day for two, or spend an overnighter in WA to partake of four+ dives, or partake of a multi day trip. More fun, less... not fun.

This is my path. It doesn't compare to any one else's. It's mine. I may go slower than someone else. I may go faster than another. It doesn't matter. Also, it's but one path amongst a number in my life that includes friends, family, spiritual, professional and freelance paths as well.

2. I need to work on mental fitness and focus. When preparing, I need to focus. I need to meditate on the process. I was wrapped up in chatting with Amy(2) as we geared up and I think a lack of "head in the game" was what started the anxiety. Compare this to the previous dive: the gear up was a silent meditation during which I visualized the dive in my head, and when I hit the water, I had not a shred of worry or anxiety. I might as well have been walking down the block I was so comfortable.

3. There are some issues I need to work on. Descending in poor vis is one of them. And honestly a few more pool hours futzing with the water around my nose probably wouldn't hurt. When amped up, that still bugs me.

4. Weight loss. Really focusing on this will help my gear fit better, lessen the weights I must carry which will make diving easier and result in lower air consumption, and a myariad of other good things.

There are some more revelations that are more wide ranging but not things to share. That's what a good long stretch of dark road can do for you.

Summer has arrived in Salem!

2010-06-14T08:15:00.000-07:00

Saturday it was HOT. Loved it! It's been a long time coming.

As usual, up early and to the Farmer's Market where we picked up two Chocolate Cherry tomato plants we'd ordered from the quirky lady who sells the best tomato plants at the market. (I say quirky while she's always very helpful and has tons of knowledge... she isn't what I'd call friendly.) She suggested that variety last year, and they were FANTASTIC. So sweet, so flavorful, so unique to look at (dark purplish-brown fruit)... with only one plant we simply ate them right off the vine while puttering around the garden. None even made it inside the house for salads! This time I also asked for a recommendation for a paste roma to round out my soup garden as well.

Saturday while walking through Fred Meyer, I made my acquaintance with what I have self-diagnosed as sciatica. Concern for why in the hell my left calf would hurt/ache/tingle/go numb for 15 seconds out of the blue resulted in me calling off a trip to WA on Sunday to dive. Txt'ing my buddies at 1am Sunday morning (pickup was just 5 hours away) was tough... I wanted to go so bad not only to chat and get to know these guys better, but to get wet of course! Making that call was hard. But, the right thing to do. While I had a handful of occurrences Saturday and consistent symptoms upon lying down in bed, by morning it was gone and there was no recurrence on Sunday.

Luckily, the day was put to good use in a patio remodeling project that is almost show-worthy. Pictures to come.

I'm still mad-crazy to get into the water, though; Wednesday I just might take a road trip up to dive with a shop owner/instructor I've met who I really enjoy chatting with and look forward to getting to know better. Six hours of driving in order to get about 1:45 in the water? Probably a few more hours of hanging around before/after? Dinner with friends? Sounds like a good deal to me!

Want something done right, do it yourself.

2010-06-12T22:27:00.000-07:00

Excitedly, we went to the Salem Saturday Market to pick up the Chocolate Cherry tomatoes we'd put on hold the week before. They were looking good, and I picked up a nice paste roma to round out my little tomato garden that will produce the foundation of fantastic tomato soup. (We ate the last jar of my last batch just this week.)

We also picked up some strawberries (two distinct types) and raspberries. We were giddy with anticipation of our favorite summer treats, for just Friday night we'd been working in the yard and I'd found a few ripe strawberries that we sampled; they were so scrumptious it almost made me cry. Like eating sunshine. I'd even sampled a raspberry - deep pinkish red but I knew it was too early yet. While it tasted a little tart the RASPBERRYNESS of it bowled me over. They are Cascade Dawns and I have yet to taste anything that equals them. Thankfully they are doing well, and spreading like mad. There are many thick bunches of berries coming on. And the blueberries! They look wonderful. Can't wait.

Our picks from the market, however... disappointing. Both types of strawberries simply lacked flavor. They were... blah. And the raspberries? OVERripe if you can believe it, yet almost totally tasteless.

Is the weather just messing with things here this year, or what?

Thankfully, our back yard seems to be a little haven of flavor. The tomatoes I picked from EZ Orchards and planted three weeks ago are going gangbusters with dark green new growth, bursting with blooms already and there are even a few small fruit that have set. I hate to see that so early, but I can't bear to pluck off the blooms and fruit.

This might be the coolest thing EVER!

2010-05-27T21:36:00.000-07:00

Y'all know of the many things I love, abandoned buildings rank high on the list. Especially expensive, grandiose projects that have fallen out of favor and into disrepair (read my ramblings on the issue here).

Over on Northwest Dive Club, I just read something that struck me as so f*cking cool it made me dizzy... I not kidding!

DIVING A FLOODED MISSLE SILO!

I think I sprained my brain stem as I zoomed through the thread after reading initially about the site's closing many years ago but then being reopened to divers in the near future.

Wow.

WOW!

OMG!

Patches... we don't need no stinkin' patches.

2010-05-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

Scot and I have always been avid collectors of stickers and what nots from our travels. Our cooler (which we have had since we were in college... I think I was actually in HIGH SCHOOL when we bought it) has sported over the years a number of stickers. Now with dive travels, it's patches.

I was a bit worried about defacing a $250 bag, but I wanted to make the spider bag of the Dive Caddy into our new billboard for Cool Places We've Been(TM). Chad at Dive Caddy assured he they'd done the same thing; a light iron on a fusible web to hold it in place before stitching would do the trick.

The iron on synthetic wasn't enough heat; moved it up to "silk" and it worked well. Always beware ironing on unknown fibers. A quick stitch around the edge and... voila.

Tacoma Dive and Travel Expo... and a dive saved the weekend.

2010-05-23T22:43:00.000-07:00

Thumbs up to this weekend as it fades out. Highlights were many; I'm a lucky gal. I had a fun ride up to Tacoma with Allen (I blame him for my insanity, he was my instructor). A night dive didn't materialize, but instead I had a great late Italian dinner with Scot who surprised me with a visit; he and Kris had gone up to WA on Thursday and I didn't plan on seeing him until we met at the Expo on Saturday. He calls me and says, "You're in the Econo Lodge right?" Um, yeah. "I'm in the parking lot."

How sweet! He was stalking me! Awwww. How romantic, after (get ready for it) 21 years together! Yes, the end of this month is our 18th wedding anniversary, and we were attached at the hip for three years prior to that. OMG! I'm not old enough for that!

Spent most of Saturday at the NW Dive and Travel Expo; it was fun to actually know enough people to frequently run into someone to hug amidst the crowd! (Seems most divers are also huggers... score! What you share in and out of the water just breaks down barriers, I guess.) Met some new friends, and put faces to friends I'd talked with only online via ScubaBoard and NW Dive Club.

The Diving Want List grew by one or two fairly small items, and I decided it is time to take the next step toward buying my own drysuit, and that is to give something other than the White's Fusion a try. I may well end up with a Fusion, but I can't make that commitment without diving something else. At the DUI booth I did everything BUT wiggle into one of the suits, and I was really intrigued by the lightweight and supple feel. I'd talked to another large woman at Redondo who had one, and she loved it, speaking very highly of its flexibility. I'm going to find a shop in PDX that carries DUI and try out something like the FLX/5050 some weekend.

Saturday afternoon I finally had the much anticipated chance to meet Chris and Christy, and was not disappointed--they rock! Although I am deeply saddened by the fact that we don't live right next door to one another so we could hang out all the friggin' time! (I should mention they are friends of Kris'... someone needs to change their goddamn name already. Oh, and also, Kris' middle name is Scott. Oh, enough!)

By Saturday afternoon I had not yet gently penetrated the watery depths of Mother Earth, however, and I was getting antsy. I just needed once, and it felt really, really important: a recommitment to my beloved local cold waters after my cheating ways in Maui earlier this month. My challenges were no ride of my own as the boys had absconded with my car; other divers were around, but with small or otherwise full cars. Turning to the power of social networking I just put it out there... looking for someone to dive with! (I'm still new enough [around 35 dives dives] and anal retentive enough that I like to know, somewhat, who I am diving with.)

Dan answered the call, yippee! But you gotta understand something: Dan was a DM in my OW class, and while I know him well enough to chat up and hug if we met at the shop, we've not dove together, and he stands out in my mind as a skilled diver to emulate. Meaning, someone I wouldn't want to look like an idiot in front of. (Or at least not again... he was after all witness to my OW class, after all.)

What, me worry? Oh hell yes. But hey... my whole challenge for the weekend was to go with the flow, so I put any worry or concern out of my mind.

We planned an early dive Sunday morning, aiming for Saltwater State Park. He txt'd his arrival at 6:30am and I went downstairs to find a sleepy Allen (ran into Dan by chance fetching something from the truck) and fresh faced Dan on the couch in the lobby. Exchange at Saltwater State Park was 11 feet, and we'd be hitting slack when we got there, but it would be on the move by the time we came up. Neither of us had been there before, and an 800ft+ surface swim on the wrong side of the slack could really, really suck.

We decided to head to Les Davis, a new site for him but one I'd dove once. Thankfully, I'd looked at the map of that one again last night.

All geared up and ready to go, once in the water he said, "You've been here before, so take the lead." Under my breath I implored the Goddess to please, please don't let me fuck this up. Compass in hand and a general idea of where to find the start of the line of rubble I ventured out.

47 minutes later, we'd been down to 75 feet (high tide much?) and I had a general idea of where we were throughout. I really like this site because the artificial reef has great dimension; many of the slabs of rubble aim and angle on one another creating great lines, and making lots of space for fish, as evidenced by some of the big freakin' ling cod we saw! One jetted out of the rubble under me as I watched it, and I wondered if the thing was ever going to actually fully EMERGE because it just keep coming, and coming, and... Lots of rock fish, some beautiful sea stars, and I finally saw a nudi that I found myself! Jellies were around, too, and I love those. Crab, shrimp, and a long little fish with a big head that I want to identify. When we surfaced, there were a few jellies that looked less dense than a lions mane but ugly enough to be more worrisome than a simple moon jelly.

We came up pretty close to the entrance after a leisurely rise up the sandy slope, and an easy safety stop. I'd dropped 4 lbs of weight this time and had good air consumption. The drysuit is looser in the legs now, and for the first time I had the "air all goes to the feet" issue. (The legs used to be tight in the calves stopping that.) Twice I had to wiggle around to get the legs down and get the bubble to redistribute.

I told Dan one reason I looked forward to diving with him is I admired his skill and wanted constructive feedback; he gave me a tip but overall said I did great and he'd be happy to dive with me again. NICE!

I'm sorry to say my dive was not dry, however. Probably due to a problem with the back of my neck seal, when I extended my neck down and back to look under myself at something, I felt a massive jet of cold water slide down my back, and sure enough, when I cracked the suit I was soaked to the bone on top. No wonder I was cold!

He dropped me back at the hotel and I had 12 minutes to get ready before heading back to the Expo to hook up with Kris, Chris and his son Nick. (Yes, I stripped out of wet dive clothes, showered, and packed up the hotel room in 12. I'm not kidding.) Chris, Nick and I walked around, which gave me the chance to play Family, for people assumed Chris and I were married and Nick was our lovechild. Thanks, Christy, for the loan of the family for the morning! ;-) My Expo Husband and I wandered around, and I was stopped cold in the middle of the isle by a video of the manta ray night dive off of Kona, HI. OMG! Check out the video! WOW. Oh. WOW. They're going to Kona in the future, lucky bastards.

Back at home now with my boys, looking forward to a very busy week which ends in camping with friends at Green Peter Lake. We swore we'd never camp Memorial Day Weekend, but when friends call up and say, "Hey, we got two large sites, wanna come?" how can you really say no?

If you've read my wandering diary entry this far, here's your payoff: Winston's new name is Speedbump.

Diving in Maui

2010-05-19T20:52:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Ivan we found our way to Maui, to a fantastic condo sitting spot on a cove filled with fish, turtles and even a little spotted eagle ray. Thanks to Dana's research, we had great dives in Maui.

After getting off the plane before noon, on Thursday night we did a shore dive at Black Rock with Extended Horizons in Lahaina. At the office we met Erik, the owner, and then headed to the parking garage of the Sheraton with our guide. Our guide was Keith--a nice mix of professionalism and humor. Myself, Scot, Dana, and a couple that were recently certified made a nice small group. Slipping into our gear without the drysuits left us feeling almost naked, and walking into the crystal clear blue warm water under a black sky filled with stars was incredible. So easy! The highlights were a HUGE turtle sleeping on the bottom right after we dropped down. Even better was seeing green moray eels that were not shy at all, but came out and swum along beside us for a while. Large, thick bodies that rippled with strength, and those so-ugly-they-are-cute faces. Lots of other things to see, but overall the location wasn't amazing; it was shallow (max 30 ft), and a lot of the life we hoped to see didn't make an appearance. But it was a very nice and easy reintroduction to the warm water! When we surfaced, there was a small swim to the exit point, and lying on my back looking up at a black sky and stars raised goosebumps on my skin. The two things together--warm caressing water and the out of reach heavens--were simply astounding.

The next morning it was up early and down to the dock to go out with Extended Horizons again. They do a great pre-dive brief, and naturalist Maren showed us photos of many things to look for; this really helped! We hit Wash Rock, then Cathedrals 1. The ease and joy of diving in clear, warm, blue water... wow. People ask what visibility was; all I can say is, "Really f'ing good," considering I'm used to measuring it in single digit feet! It was on these dives that I got to use a camera I'd borrowed from a friend. Having that to fiddle with took my mind off the usual obsessing I do about my own systems when I'm diving. Don't get me wrong, awareness and vigilance is a good thing, but my mind goes into overdrive, overanalyzes, and as a result creates a twinge of anxiety and keeps it alive through a feedback loop. I have to work at relaxing, when really it should be relaxing. Having the camera short circuited the feedback loop, and once my obsessive brain focused on finding a critter, the rest of my brain simply directed my body to do what it already knows how to do, and I found myself hovering with ease, making minor adjustments in position without thought, and overall being more aware of and in tune with my surroundings.

The highlights: as we approached Cathedrals 1, Scot gave a sharp whistle and pointed behind the boat. A pod of spinner dolphins were skimming along the coast. As Captain Victoria spun the boat around to a stop she yelled out, "Mask and fins! In the water NOW! You've got 60 seconds before they are here!" The pod turned toward the boat, and the water churned with sleek dark bodies arcing up and out. They split around the boat. There were perhaps 30 seen at one time at the surface; for every one we saw there were multiples underwater. Pods can be as large as 150! Around the boat many of them leapt out of the water doing impressive acrobatics.

The most beautiful thing I've ever seen: these creatures free in their own home. One thing diving has done is make it very likely I will never go to an aquarium again, at least not comfortably.

Due to increased comfort and body changes, weights are still in flux and I was overweighted on most dives. Regardless, buoyancy was really good, resulting in that beautiful feeling of effortless floating, taking only the slightest of fin kicks to get moving. Slow breathing, just a bit more in or out to move up or down. Now and then I arrived at this wonderful place of calm bliss, a totally zen moment--all the more stunning considering you are in a most unnatural environment.

Saturday it was up at 4am in order to pick Dana up at 4:30 and arrive in Kikei to go out with B&B Scuba. Good thing we left early; an auto accident closed the road and we had to make a little detour. We arrived in good time, got on the boat and set out for Molokini and Red Hill. The boat had a different vibe; I admit at first it felt kinda like the old boy's club. Maybe it was just me, but I sensed, moreso than in my experience to date, a vibe about me being a big girl. But once we got underway--and I think once Dana and I proved that we knew our stuff--things smoothed out. They gave me a DUI weight vest to dive with. SO much better than those damn weight belts.

Diver Dave was our guide, and he had the bleached hair and dark tan of a guy who had spent his whole life in the water and in the sun, and he blended in like a fish once in the water, too. Thanks to him I have added "hang loose" to my cache of underwater hand signals, for that was his response to almost everything. He communicated a lot, and also was more interactive. This further took me out of my focus on self, and into my environment. He would pick up rocks and shells and hand them to us--or at least Dana and I. He'd get us in real close for a look at something. He was hot to spot great stuff for photographs, and he spied things on the sandy bottom I'd never have discerned.

As we talked about our cold water diving at home (including showing my computer w/ dives from the last few weeks on it in 47 degree water), the guys warmed, including the two younger guys who were getting certified. By the surface interval we were talking about gear, dive spot wish lists, etc.

On both of those dives I was the last one on the boat, and on our last dive I had a fair amount of air remaining so Dave took me on an extra tour around. That was pretty awesome -- going from the fat chick they looked at with a bit of an "Oh boy," to the diver with the most time in the water.

Being born as a diver in the PNW makes a difference. When trip bookers ask about your certification and history, you barely get out, "I dive in the Pacific Northwest" before they say, "Oh, yeah, you're fine." While it's nice to have the boat crew handle the gear, there's a part of me that wants to beat them off of it and say, "Let me do it!" Sometimes I do. This gets respect. Having your own gear says a lot, too. It's all about ease; don't climb the ladder with your gear on, just drop it here and we'll hand it up. I declined that except the very last dive of our trip because Dave was practically hauling it off of me before I could say no. One could get used to that.

But seriously... on Friday while I marveled at the joys of warm water diving, a part of me was also eager, already, to get back to the task of cold water diving. That was an interesting, and confirming, feeling.

Maui was nice; I'll dive it again. But if someone gave me a choice: Maui or Cozumel, I'd choose the latter. Especially now; I'm much more comfortable in the water and would be so much more able to enjoy the fast rides in the current. Maui has some nice fish, but Cozumel has amazing coral, more invertebrates, and in areas just as many fish.

In the afternoons, evenings and Sunday we explored the island with Rhonda and Ivan, and hung out cooking dinner together and doing goofy things like trying to turn Scot into Carmen Miranda. (And this occurred when we were NOT drunk... just imagine...)

When diving, bring along a great photographer.

2010-04-22T22:15:00.001-07:00

Crossing the Desert
Originally uploaded by SubaquaticPhoto

In any group of divers, there are photographers. Even if you don't have a camera, this means you'll be able to see photos of your travels thanks to the friends and fellow divers who were on the trip with you. I really enjoy the variety, from informal shots by amateurs to the highly polished productions by pros, and everything in between.

Stephen Wood is a fantastic photographer, Salem local and seemingly all around great guy who I met as a divemaster in my OW class. (He's now an instructor.) I've had the pleasure of chatting with him a time or two (while hammock swinging in Cozumel or enjoying the post-fog sun at Les Davis). He's posted some great shots via Facebook, and he's publishing amazing shots on Flicker (as SubaquaticPhoto).

I can't stop looking at this photo from Cozumel. It's a perfect depiction of what I love about diving: it feels like flying. Flying through space.

Keep an eye on him. He sells prints, offers underwater photography classes, and more. Check him out.

You don't just get a passion, you get another family, too.

2010-04-21T08:17:00.000-07:00

I haven't written much here about diving other than the cool thrilling stuff. While chatting about the more mundane with a friend, they encouraged me to post more about my discoveries. While I am always looking up and not wanting to sound like a n00b idiot to those I aspire to, she pointed out that others, like herself, may be encouraged to take the step over the threshold by seeing my experience. Well alright, then!

One excellent benefit from scuba diving (aside from the thrilling sense of adventure, the most excellent exercise, the wonderful things you see and the incredible sense of calm centering it brings) is the people you meet. It's a family, similar to motorcycling or other group activities. But... deeper. No pun intended.

You have to earn it but the initial threshold is low: show up and try. From day one in class you drop pretension and make a connection with your partners and classmates that can quickly grow. My first group trip to Cozumel in January was an interesting sociological experiment. Most of the people on the group trip were unknown to me. There are a few specific points initially where my usual social outgoing nature was rebuffed (similar to other situations where being a fat, 30something woman clearly isn't the "in" thing). But those very same people, after they saw me exit the water in full gear and a big-ass grin on my face, suddenly smiled at me and proactively connected with me at the water's edge, in the hallways, in the dining hall. I'd earned my spot as a diver, one of them.

It means you have something instantly to talk about together; there's never a dull scuba conversation! But it's something beyond that. Something unique you share together that others just can't understand.

The environment fosters quick, deep connections. When in training and as a new certified diver, you rely so much on the people you dive with for all manner of things. You'll expose yourself to them in many ways--both physical and mental. Just get over it: your seawater soaked hair will look like a rat died in it when you pull off your hood, and at some point you're going to have to push breasts one way while someone else pulls a zipper the other way. (Or vice versa; what are good friends for if they can't get up in your junk?) For added glamour and glory, exiting the water is almost always accompanied by a belch that rivals Booger and Ogre in Revenge of the Nerds *, and if you are lucky you won't have a huge glob of snot on your face when you remove your mask.

That's if you are lucky.

Of course, scuba is a cross section of the population and has its fair share of malcontents, whiners, whackos and assholes both male and female. In life in general I tend to rush in with a big smile on my face, my arms waving in the air and yelling, "Weeeee!" until I step in some shit, and this new family is no different, I'm sure, but I endeavor to avoid drama, as always. Thanks to the net you can meet divers all over; I've got a list of dive date offers with people in the Puget Sound that could keep me busy for months.

Now for the reality check. Diving is still a male dominated activity. Women are coming on board like never before, and women diving buddies seem to bond pretty quickly. As a woman, though, you have to be careful; your initial choices and actions in a group will form a first impression that can be hard to change or overcome. This is especially true if you are young and/or attractive. As a big girl, I've often become "one of the guys" and this saves me from that judgement (but also robs me of the attention which can sometimes be a benefit).

There are some men in the sport who will have sexist attitudes about your abilities, potential or place. (What's worse sometimes are the men that think they don't have those... but do.) If you run into those, smile politely and go elsewhere, they aren't worth your time and there are SO many other wonderful people to connect with and support who will do the same for you.

And, as always... trust your instincts.

I have many dives and hours to go before I can even consider myself a okay diver. But the initial butterfly thrill is wearing off and maturing into something much more... powerful. I'm becoming drawn to technical issues, and my mind does NOT work that way, and usually I'm more than happy to throw the curtain over all that stuff and let someone else handle it. The fact that I'm dying to take apart my regulator just to see what's inside (yeah, I've seen the drawings, but that's different) is a new feeling for me. It feels kinda funny.

This is interesting, indeed. The ride is just beginning.

* Why? With a reg in your mouth you don't swallow often, but when you do you're getting a nip of air compressed to the depth you are at. I tend to swallow more at depth because by then my mouth is getting dry. Compressed air in the stomach grows as you ascend, and results in belchorama.

Love Redondo and Les Davis!

2010-04-19T08:07:00.000-07:00

This caffeine lover is hard pressed to admit it, but a new rule of NO CAFFEINE ON DIVE DAY is a good one. Or, in the very least, not a lot of caffeine. Our last trip to Redondo got off to a rocky start thanks to my jitters, fueled by having a large Dutch Mocha w/ an extra shot AND a 32 ounce Mountain Dew during the 3 hour trip up.

No such malady this time, although there's always something, isn't there? The end of a cold was hanging on, but I trusted in the Sudafed. The first descent at Redondo at a low tide amused me with lots of squishy noises in my sinuses, until at 25 fsw I felt a sudden stab of brain pain that seriously had me worried I'd suffered some catastrophic event like a brain aneurism, or a stroke. (We now have a new hand signal for "brain aneurism.") Pain so intense it made me nauseous! It quickly resolved and I realized it must've simply been a sinus issue. I sent Scot and Dana on down for the deep dive; I promised to stay near the pier, in sight of the pillars (which in the poor vis wasn't very far).

After careful consideration I took a few spins around the base of the pier, down to 35 fsw with no equalization problems. Some will crucify me for a decision to solo dive. My evaluation went like this: simple, well known area; shallow depth; no current issues; no fishing line/entanglement possibilities; even with total equipment failure I could CESA to the surface. Yes, if something rendered me unconscious I'd be in trouble, but I drive a car daily with that same possibility at hand. I'm pretty conservative, and it felt right. It was gloriously relaxing (no one to worry about but me) and was a good exercise in both decision making and execution. Would I make THAT same decision again? Yes. Will I think even more carefully about such issues in the future? Yes. Is there solo dive training and a secondary air source in my future? You betcha.

No one needs to worry; I'm not about to go striking off on dive trips all by myself without telling anyone, or looking to break my personal depth records by myself at a new dive site. I'm just saying that until recently I thought the idea of solo diving was just batshit crazy. But after realizing that if you're in bad vis with a parter who isn't paying attention... you might as well be on your own. (Not that I've had that happen, but I've heard of others.) So if you might find yourself on your own anyway... why not be prepared for it? It has its place, I now know. One of the best divers in our group solos, too, which has likely impacted my view.

On the second dive it was just Scot and I; I had no ear/sinus issues and we were to 65 fsw. We worked on navigation skills, failed at our specific task due to the poor vis (we found everything BUT what we were in search of, and surely passed within feet of it) but found one another in the murk when lost (knowing the bearing we were on and using flashlights to break through it brought us back together). We're equal air hogs so we hit 750 at the same time, had a very smooth safety stop (it's surprisingly hard to hold your position in the water column at 15 feet in a lot of exposure gear as you have to dump air at just the right amount as you come up to remain neutral), and a little surface swim back.

We were tired, looked like shit, it was raining, we were damp through and through... and we were happy as could be.

Up early the next day to be at Les Davis at 8:30... ugh! But we geared up, had a blast talking with friends, and bemoaning the thick heavy fog. We dove there to 65 feet, and I was doing well using the drysuit only for buoyancy control (I'd learned the bad habit of using the BCD). Vis was really poor, and a current kicked up a bit, and the metal in the concrete that was sunk to make the artificial reef made compass use impossible. We were quite far from the steps when we surfaced, and had a nice long surface swim back. The joy was that by the time we came up, the fog had burned off and we enjoyed wonderful views of the Olympics, blue sky and warm sun!

We hung around for quite some time, then all decided to pack it in instead of do a 2nd dive due to the poor vis. We spent time talking with our many friends, made new ones, and learned a lot from all.

So many lessons learned on each trip; on this one from how much easier it is to pack with a checklist to what to do if Mother Nature deals you a crappy hand on dive day. My pawn moved a few more steps down the road to being a great diver.

Dana deserves a shout out; she's a great travel buddy and a considerate dive partner. I'm happy that she feels the same about me (and Scot, too). Later that night as Scot and I were debriefing, he said, "I enjoy diving with you; you're good and getting better." That made me smile.

Maui is coming up in just a little over two weeks. While I do really enjoy cold water diving, I can't wait for less gear, better vis and more color!

It's a big-ass bean bag. For my big...

2010-04-03T23:04:00.000-07:00

Last weekend when The Girlz and I went to TJ's in Corvallis, we hit Magenta for lunch and then stumbled upon the awesome store Mod Pod on the way back to the car. . I fell in love with the Fatboy bean bag chairs. They were awesomely comfortable and so durable. They would work great outdoors, indoors, etc. I talked endlessly about them to Scot, saying he'd love them if he gave them a try.

And... well... they're versatile. If you know what I mean.

Today we hit Eugene for the first Saturday Market of the season. The return of markets marks a very special moment, one of the undeniable signs of approaching spring and summer. While we awoke to rain, we slowly got ready until finally we decided to brave the drizzle and head south. By the time we got to Eugene the skies had dried, and the sun even came out. We had a wonderful time visiting with vendors both new and familiar, picking up a few birthday gifts, and a few fun things for ourselves. (I bought a hat. A HAT. Can you believe it? I don't wear hats. But I like this one so well I don't care if it looks goofy or not.)

On the way home we swung through Corvallis and I introduced him to the Fatboy. And he loved it. He said he wanted a blue one -- and that was the one they had in stock, wouldn't you know (in addition to the two demos which were, of course, orange and black. But this blue one was up in storage and free from such use and abuse)! So we shoved it into the back of the Bug -- and it filled it up, let me tell you -- and headed home.

LOVE IT!

Wells Fargo? Bunch of Bitches.

2010-03-29T19:11:00.000-07:00

(I so wanted to find the skit from the Chappelle Show where Wu-Tang Clan have become financial consultants... but alas, Comedy Central does a good job of scrubbing out their content from the likes of YouTube.)

ANYWAY... not like this is news to anyone, but beware Wells Fargo. I was contacted via phone from the local office offering good rates on home and auto refinancing. Getting information never hurts, right? I asked the rep for quotes--he wanted to talk talk talk and I'm like, "Write it down. I'll consider it." He took some information and then I dropped by a few days later to pick up written quotes.

He had no real information ready, and yacked yacked yacked while he tried to pull together the information I'd asked for, which he had told me he had prepared and ready. In passing he said, "Oh, and by the way, I submitted an application for an unsecured credit card, you'll get it in the mail in a few days. Use it if you want to, don't if you like, whatever."

Sure enough, a credit card arrives in the mail a few days later. It's not a $10k card or anything, but... still. I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. You didn't offer it for me. You did something, without my knowledge or permission, that can affect my credit rating.

That is not responsible banking behavior. And it guarantees I will never do business with Wells Fargo. I told the rep that very clearly when he called me back today. He tried to save it and I gently pushed back, and he tried again and then I turned off the sweet and professional and gave him one sentence that left him stammering.

Heh.

So... I am still considering a refinance, in part because our mortgage was bought by Bank of America, another company which I don't care to support.

*sigh*

I heart Oregon. Yep, spring is here.

2010-03-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

Spring energy is in the air. Saturday was a blur of chores: cleaned/straightened bunnies' area, straightened the studio, vacuumed dog out of the VW, did the same with the truck, cut down the bamboo, pulled out a dead tree, cleaned up the back yard (two dogs, ya know), mowed, dismantled the old potting bench, threw it all into the back of the truck and took it to the dumpter, then got three new trees from Home Depot, and applied Weed and Feed. We finished off the evening by running Marissa's legs off in the back yard and then enjoying the yard from the vantage point of the hot tub.

Our reward today was setting up some Orchard Mason Bees at the homes of a few friends, then meeting up with Ivan and Rhonda for a drive down the Gorge, across Bridge of the Gods and a stop at Walking Man Brewery in Stevenson, WA. Great beer, yummy pizza, and a unique bathroom: the faucets are a nifty mix of pipes, and the temperature and pressure gages work. And that's just the beginning of the unique creative touches in the bathrooms there. The dark clouds mixed with breaks of sunbeams made the dark greens of the trees and the sparkles off the water of the Columbia all the more brilliant.

Damn, I love Oregon!

Women, let's talk about sex.

2010-03-08T10:23:00.000-08:00

Sex is an issue which divides generations, gender, education, class and just about everything else, despite being a simple fact of life for 100% of the human race. Especially in a culture where sex is everywhere but at the same time forbidden and sordid, open honest and truthful information about the subject is a positive contribution to the life of the individual, the community and yes, even the world.

Salem, Oregon is now home to a female owned, women oriented shop selling sensual delights. Right next to Subway at 1326 State Street just outside the main portion of downtown you'll find Enigma. I'm a big fan, and hope they see a groundswell of support, both from those who already have no qualms about exploring and maintaining the sexual energy in their lives (which can imbue life into everything from gardening to paying bills to, well, sex), but also those who have always wondered, had questions, or fantasies.

Life's too short; move those fantasies over into the "to do" list.

Forget everything you've ever seen or heard about "an adult store" before. The shop is small, bright, stylish, and comfortable. There is no garish porn; there are no video booths or sneering men looking around. In fact, the place looks like a boutique store selling a plethora of iMac-like items as the trend in toys has gone toward beautiful packaging, bright colors and sensual product design.

Seriously. GO. If you've never been into a store selling these items before, GO NOW. Grab a friend. Walk right in like you own the place, or giggle and titter like you're 13 years old. BUT GO. Even if the only result is, "Wow, I never knew..." You can then say you've been there, seen that.

But I dare you to walk out without buying something, even if it's just a little ampule of scented/flavored massage oil. And please do -- supporting your local businesses is so important. :-)

Be sure to check out the tall glass display case showing what you thought your grandmother didn't know: late 19th and early 20th century vibrating machines sold by doctors and even in the Sears catalog as a cure for the womenly ailment known as "hysteria." (See The Shaky Past of Adult toys, written by yours truly for Salem Monthly back in 2006.)

The real reason for my writing is to implore women (and those that love them) in Salem to support the store, and there's no better way to help raise this energy in Salem than to support an upcoming event. They are hosting Tristan Taormino for a two hour Human Sexuality class that should be on everyone's transcript. Even if you know it all and think you could teach this class yourself, I implore you to go. Go to show your support for this type of energy and endeavor in our community. Go to show other women that this is important, and go to show Salem that intelligent, educated information about sexuality is more powerful than all the seedy porn shops the interstates can hold.

Yes, I'm going. And if anyone wants to go, but needs a hand to hold while walking in the door, just call me and we'll make it happen. Otherwise, drop by or call to let them know you're coming. Buy a ticket for yourself. Buy a ticket and give it to your adult daughter as a gift. Buy a ticket for a friend. Buy a ticket for your Mom.

The event is NOT for women only; men and women are openly invited. But I see this as a real opportunity for women, many of which may not have avenues such as this to openly communicate about sexuality.

See below for the posted event details.

THE ULTIMATE GUIDE TO WOMEN'S SEXUAL PLEASURE

With: Tristan Taormino

Discover the ABCs of sexual pleasure for women, from the basic to the advanced in a supportive, non-judgmental environment. Hear Tristan's unabashed straight talk about sex in the Human Sexuality class that most people never get to take! She'll cover a variety of topics, including: sexual anatomy, masturbation, orgasms, improving your erotic communication skills, finding the elusive g-spot, myths and truths about female ejaculation, sex toy tips and techniques, and the wonders of anal sex. There will be an extensive question-and-answer period where students are encouraged to ask her anything.

When: Thursday, March 18, 2010. 7:30 - 9:30PM (All genders welcome.)

Where: Enigma 1326 State St Salem OR

Cost: $25/per person

Student Rate: $20

Phone: (503) 569-7087

Email: contact@ourenigma.com

If you know of a women's group in the Salem Metro Area, please point them to this post or to Enigma's web site (which has some usability issues, which is why I am posting all the information here).

Garden journal.

2010-03-08T03:14:00.000-08:00

Last year we started a Garden Journal, a place to job notes about new projects, ideas for the future, copies of plant tags, receipts, dreams, etc. I felt a little bad as the energy to keep it updated petered out once the season got going, but in hindsight that's normal; Mother Nature takes over from there. As a new spring approaches, it's great to look back and see what didn't work, what worked differently than anticipated, and all sorts of other things.

I'm most thankful for keeping the tags on the raspberries. We want more of the same: fast growing plants that even in their first year threw impressive thumb sized berries with a rich sweet flavor that had us picking at them daily, enjoying what small harvest they yielded right from the vine.

What do we call this?

2010-03-06T14:49:00.000-08:00

We call this, "Catastrophic Project Failure." See photo 1. Ooops.

But the story isn't so sad. Simple creative challenges are a tool I'm using to move my work forward. I chose a color pallete (photo 2), picked a mold, and went about creating a simple result, not getting overly wrapped up in, "Will this be the coolest thing ever produced?" which is what often happens that results in me not doing an actual piece.

I played with the four colors, cutting four sets of pieces, and creating different arranagements (photo 3). The results were some which I liked, some less so. Starting with the less liked combo, I fused, then slumped. Or, I should say, I successfully fused, but a number of things went wrong during the slump.

My kiln is too small for a project like this. If I want to do it, ramp up needs to be painfully slow, not aggressive (as I tend to run). The piece cracked in half while ramping up to the full slump temp. So by the time it draped, it was already broken, and the sides slid down to the bottom. Luckily, there's enough kiln wash plashed all over my kiln that nothing stuck. The soak temp was too high, too close to the devit zone which likely caused the grey shift in the blue and the caramel in the marzipan color. The soak time at slump temp was also too long; slump gave way to a much more fluid result. Given it was only 12 minutes, that surprised me.

This mold makes a simple arced piece with a depression; perfect for a simple votive holder, an altar piece, an interesting serving dish, or a spot on a nightstand to place jewelry and other precious things so they won't get lost. When it works, anyway.

On to the next least attractive color combo. By the time I get to the last one I should have it right; that will be iteration #4. ☺