January 18th, 2013

Whale fluke

Errands and bridges

My part of Portland's fogged in this morning. I know because people I follow on Twitter are saying things like "it's pink outside" and the most I've seen of that is a vague glow. Blast. I like pretty sunrises (and sunsets)...

We had a glad-making sunny day yesterday, and I was able to use that. Like popfiend, I'm apparently solar-powered, and respond better to life when there's plenty of sun in it. Wednesday was socked in; coincidentally, so was I, not leaving the apartment and not doing much. I had to get more done yesterday.

I did get out (thanks, buses and my legs) to the Hawthorne Powell's, selling $10 worth of books; to the Belmont library branch, where the books I hadn't been able to sell I was able to donate; to the Hawthorne Fred Meyer, where $8.30 of that $10 became groceries; and to a Starbucks south of that (39th/Cesar Chavez Blvd. and Holgate, there now you can retrace my steps), because I had a 15-minute wait for the bus home so why not do it in a warm store?

And last night, I gave myself another excuse to go out and I walked/bussed down to where a bridge is moving. The Sellwood Bridge is being moved over to temporary supports, a piece at a time, so that its replacement bridge can be built where the bridge itself has stood for the past 87 years. I'm glad I don't have that job. It was dark by the time I got down there, down on the east approach to the bridge, so the best clue I had for anything being moved was the darkness ahead of me where a chunk of bridge used to be*. The bridge, obviously, is closed: it closed yesterday morning, for what should be a week, and the morning commute was slammed. I even saw the effects, walking up Milwaukie Ave. on my morning trip. Sounds like this morning is more manageable (and that yesterday's evening commute went better, too).

So. I'm here. And can still write. What else can I do?

* I was wrong. I looked again today (Friday, 1/18/2013) and the darkness I'd seen was just due to shadows caused by a floodlight. The pieces of the bridge that have been moved are farther along the span; the construction crew has shifted a short chunk of it several feet, then the next chunk several more feet, and a third chunk several feet still. The long bits of the bridge that need to movde to the temporary supports will get moved in the next few days. This is a fascinating job, and I'M GLAD I'M NOT DOING IT. Whoa.
Berthold Run

Possibly the time

I might finally, for the first time in my adult life, get a flu shot.

I don't need another reason to hide in my apartment away from people.

Stay as healthy as you can, y'all.
Whale fluke

Once upon a time, I had a dog

Dogs. I miss dogs. I kind of wish I'd met Hondo, one of my Dad's pets growing up, but! We had Sophie. From 1990, when she was two years old, to 2004, when she was 16. She was puppy-like for quite a lot of those years, though she got through the "chew all the things" stage reasonably quickly. (Her favorite target? Mom and Dad's big hardcovers. We still have one of the Tom Clancy books she nommed.)

I didn't know we were getting Sophie until I heard her smashing footfalls from the first floor of our Oakton house while I was upstairs in Mom and Dad's room. That noise was all my warning -- she didn't bark all THAT much -- that I'd be about to fall for a dog. We'd gotten her because a co-worker of Dad's was getting a divorce, and his new home had room for one of his two Labs. He let Dad know; Dad had been wanting a yellow lab for a while; they trusted each other; we had a dog.

Sophie is still the only dog I've lived with for more than dog sitting. (Now I'm thinking of the good dogs I've looked after. I've known lots of good dogs.) She was a 76-pound lap dog -- I have photo proof of that -- and was very very friendly. Possibly dumb as lint, but she was charmingly dumb.

Maybe one person didn't like Sophie, and this person was the daughter of visitors to our Oakton house. She was dressed in a black dress for an event she was going to next, and she sat down on the love seat that had become Sophie's place to sit. Sophie was a yellow Lab. You do the math. Tape was needed to get rid of the Sophie hair.

But generally, people liked Sophie, and Sophie liked people, even her last veterinarian. We got lots of compliments about our dog. As you hope your dog does.

We eventually put Sophie down in spring 2004; we perhaps had waited longer than we should have, because those last few months were difficult for her. I won't go into details; you can guess and imagine fine on your own, if you've had a dog. But, of course and thank goodness, she'd had far more good months in her life.

I'm hoping and guessing that she hasn't ruined me for other dogs. And I think that when I live in a larger place, I'll have a dog.

Sorry, cat people, I won't likely be adopting a cat. I've had VERY good luck with my friends' cats, including my former girlfriend Alicia's cats, but I don't see myself as a cat person. But I'll be good to cats. But I want to be good to a dog.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPad.


Getting used to it (I almost titled this "Getting used," but that could mean something different)

Will I write differently on an iPad than I do on a desktop computer? I'll find out!

I forced myself while at a library today to write a decent-length entry on the iPad. The thought process that leads to me writing entries didn't seem to go the way it usually goes. I had to tell myself Just write about whatever comes up. I considered writing a poem, but didn't think my mind would generate one at that time. (Plus I was listening to a couple of podcasts, thanks to having stereo earphones that are compatible with the iPad, and being creative while listening to people actually talk is sometimes hard for me. Focus would be too divided.) Then I realized I could write about my former dog. Thus, this. I could do it.

And it's fairly easy to close the LJ app and check the web for info I might need, knowing that whatever I've written so far will stay there unmolested and be reopened easily. I was a little worried that I'd lose writing.

Will writing in different environs also have an effect? Will I actually be able to write in a coffee house? Especially creatively? Or would I be more likely to fart around? I'm good at farting around, maybe too good. I don't need more places to fart around, I need to do more work. *grins wryly*

Still, it's a neat device, and I'm finding more places where I can and can't use it. I most likely won't be getting mobile access to the Web anytime soon, because bills, but I'll find more places where that sweet signal is shooting by. (By the way, I went past the library again after it had closed and tested whether its unlocked wifi was still on and if I could get the signal from outside. Nope, it was off. Makes sense.)

I'm home, by the way. Back where I'm more used to blogging and Webbing.