moving on............and on.................and on

There are few life events more stressful than moving that don't involve some kind of physical or emotional trauma (and I could reasonably argue that moving encompasses minor degrees of both). Even after the process of transporting one's worldly possessions from one locale to another, there is the much longer/inherently slower process of unbundling that which was so carefully at first and haphazardly towards the end, packed. Every new nook and cranny requires consideration because, as it becomes baldly apparent later, where you put things initially is largely where they permanently reside. Arbitrarily, it seems not to matter if you are moving from small to big or big to small, there seems to always be something that used to fit somewhere that no longer does. Our new place has a small kitchen (a bachelor kitchen perhaps), without a lot of room for things like a wok, let alone a blender, crock pot, or any other of the wide varietal of kitchen accoutrements. Conversely we moved from 1.5 bedrooms to 4, so we have a few rooms with quite literally nothing in them. It is truly a puzzle............and I am not very good at puzzles.

But, by far the most stressful part of unpacking is the near constant sense of what I refer to as 'possession displacement disorder' or more commonly the 'where the (expletive) are/is my (object)?' This occurs with alarming frequency and seems to take a long time to improve overmuch. Generally the lost object is most easily located under the largest pile and the rapidity of its location is inverse to its immediate need. Some kind of lesser Newtonian Law I imagine. Or perhaps Murphy's.

The other part of moving that I am increasingly starting to loathe is the building of new furniture. Tia and I are fairly capable people and yet it is astounding how frequently we manage to put something together backwards. Well, I would say it was astounding except the directly are generally quite vague about the specific details of assembly with often little similarity between the twee 2 dimensional sketches of what you are building and the decidedly different looking actual pieces. And some things, our roving bookshelf for instance, really test both patience and imagination. It is why, in my far off dreams, I truly consider having 'made it' financially is having furniture delivered already put together. I guess it wouldn't be largely composed of particle board and about 20% of the cost though. Suffice to say, I am not quite there yet.

But, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Things are gradually finding their way to their new homes and the pieces are finally starting to resemble the whole. Then we can start of the yard.

On Biking:

I really thought I was getting in better shape. We have been jogging for more than a month now and are starting to make some not inconsiderable gains. I have even lost a few pounds along the way. But, clearly, biking and jogging use very distinct muscles. As we are now about 2.5 miles away from work, walking is no longer viable.........but biking most certainly is. However, my body begs to differ. There is a hill (mountain?) about half way to work (and half way to home) that, though clearly gradual, seems inexplicably difficult to crest. However, once over it, the rest of the ride is quite a breeze. I know it will just take time and it truly does feel good to exercise in that way in the morning.........but getting passed by people in flip-flops who are clearly in poor physical shape is a touch embarrassing.

I had thought I might write more.............but more boxes and totes remain. More to come as always.

Jesus loves chickens

It ain't easy being Jesus. Mostly because the beard and wig are itchy. I am sure there were other difficulties than that for the actual JC (the whole persecution and nailing to the cross come immediately to mind), but in my Jesus costume it was mostly the itchy thing. Well that and it is hard to drink a beer with a faux beard.

Why did I dress up as Jesus you might wonder (and if you don't wonder, I am left to because that certainly falls out of the bounds of a normal weekend...........that or I just seem like the type who would dress up as a deity for giggles)? For a good friend's party with a theme of gods and monsters. It was really a lot of fun. Tia god her inner goddess on with her Athena themed attire and there were many Pans, a smattering of roman/Greek gods, a wolfman, Buddha, Vishnu, and a variety of others. That and lots of good drinks and food. Really fun.

We also spent our time last weekend wandering around looking at chicken coops on the annual 'Tour de Coop' on the East side. The East side is a many varied thing here in Portland. Full of a huge variety of eccentricities, neighborhood alcoves, and great local eateries that butt up against perpetually 'up and coming' neighborhoods, a surprisingly high recent spate of gang slayings, and general downtroddeness. The suburbs it aint. But, neither is it truly 'urban' in any real sense of the word. It is a place where some people have the most fascinating obsession with chickens though.........while just down the street they build brand spanking new apartments for recovering junkies. Ah Portland..........never shall ye be fully gentrified.

But, back to chickens and how I found myself actually considering the notion of becoming a somewhat urban farmer. We happened upon it when one of Tia's mentees and my coworker both mentioned that they had their own chickens and coops. We even got to sample some of the fresh eggs, which with no exaggeration I can say are very different from even the most organic, cage-free, hormone free eggs you can buy at the store. These things were about half yolk, and as brightly yellow as Kraft macaroni and choose powder. They were also delicious. So, with no real knowledge of chickens, we got ourselves a guide and saw some chickens (the best coop we saw is pictured above). There were 20+ coops on the tour, and we only managed to find our way to about 5 of them, but it was quite eye-opening. Some of the cages were reclamation projects fashioned from bits and parts and another was designed and built by an architect. Most housed a few chickens, but one woman had 23 of them (you are permitted to have 3 without getting a city permit evidently). The more fascinating part were how informed the owners were. I had no idea there were so many sizes and types of chickens............nor that the phrase 'pecking order' was based on the actual behaviors of chickens. It was illuminating and really weirdly interesting. On the other hand, it is a pretty big thing to undertake, and at a fairly steep cost, for some eggs. Delicious as those eggs might be.

The move continues to lurch forward in fits and stops as most packing and moving does. Tonight will be the final push. The time where you stop actually packing and just start throwing random things into boxes without any semblance of theme just to get them into something for the movers to take over. Of course, all of this is happening on the back side of work days, while trying to get things organized in our new house (getting in new flooring, cleaning, painting, etc). Thankfully Tia continues to be a dynamo and Diane continues her unblemished record of being a champion mover and all-purpose house setter upper. So, with fingers crossed, hopefully Saturday evening will find us unpacking all those carefully packed and haphazardly thrown together boxes and embarking on our 9th residence together since 2007. And, with luck, it might even have power, water, cable, and all the other things we have set up......or at least tried to. Maybe we should pray about it..................hmmm, time to put the beard and wig back on I think.

things

Work

I have never really taken a lot of pride in my work. I think I work well with others, I actively try not to stir up trouble or engage in much slagging of co-workers or organizational structures, and do what I am supposed to do without the need of constant supervision. In most ways I am a pretty good employee. But, mostly I just see work as a means to an end. I work so I can afford to live and, hopefully, do some fun stuff along the way. If this job proves tolerable and pays reasonably well, all the better.

So, it is with some degree of reservation that I must admit that I am getting rather, well, good at what I do. I might even be taking a measure of pride in it. I am not sure what to think about that though. Is it a sign of a latent 'grown-up phase' or of a mental imbalance? All that is certain is that generally around this point I start scrambling for a way out.

Instead, I am trying to start to take ownership of my job. With that comes a litany of holy-crapitude like taking on additional responsibilities, coming in early certain days to make sure I, and the clinic, are ready for a 9 am patient, and worrying about things if I am out for a day. It is kind of freaking me out honestly. Maybe it is a mental imbalance after all. More to come as events warrant as always on that front.

Running

Who would have thought that I would actually enjoy running? Well, enjoy might be an overstatement. I enjoy eating fried things, taking long weekend naps, and reading.........running is definitely a level below, but I still like it. It feels like, well like accomplishing something. I might even feel 'good' afterwards and feel less than that on days we don't run. I think the mental imbalance argument is picking up steam.

Home Ownership

Whoa! Today it is finally 'official' with all the 'I's dotted and 'T's finally crossed. True, it won't be for another week and some odd days before we actually move in...........but it will happen at this point. I am both incredibly excited to have a place to spread out, personalize, and relax in/work on and incredibly freaked out by the idea of mortgage payments, taxes, and upkeep repairs. It truly feels unreal at this point considering how long ago it was that we had our inspection and made all the original agreements. Even seeing it a few days ago with our Realtor was bizarrely like seeing it for the first time............as we had either not noticed or forgotten so many of its details. Now we just have to hope all the loose ends come together for moving in........oh yeah, and pack. We need to do that too.

So, in summary, I am starting to feel some actual pride in my work, I am enjoying running outside, and am excited to take on a 30 year mortgage (at least for the time being). Yup, time for intense therapy. No question about it.

God I hate moving

For someone as apt to move as do pretty much anything, I really truly hate it. I guess in my dream moving world, whatever didn't fit in a car would just stay where it was and I would re-buy the stuff wherever I ended up. Of course, even with the rather modest amount of stuff that Tia and I tote around with us, it doesn't make sense. Especially when you factor in our average move time at about 6 months (with our record being just a hair under a year.....a record I hope we eclipse with this move).

There just always seems to be something. Wilsonville was too far from everything when I was no longer going to work in Salem. Our apartment off Capital was nice on the surface, and trash just beneath it (aided by the fact that the owner paid bills late and services were perpetually in limbo). Our King City house was too large and, again, too far from where we really wanted to be. Our new downtown pad was overly expensive, overly crowded, and in the end overly mold ridden. Our Fargo triplex has walls that are akin to Japanese paper doors and block no sound at all and though we fit in it, we only do so like someone slightly overweight trying to fit into their high school prom dress.........it just aint pretty.

Suffice to say it was with no little hope that we went to visit our soon to be new abode today after hearing the former tenant left it some time ago and were crestfallen to see how the back yard has fallen into jungle-like conditions since we last saw it some 6 weeks ago. We are now planning an interior walk through tomorrow hoping the inside looks significantly better. After signing dozens upon dozens of papers and forking over a, for us anyway, considerable sum of money, we just expected it to look like, well, like when we last saw it. Here is hoping tomorrow is much much better than the first time we walked into our current place. Otherwise, we better start formulating plan B............and with haste since we are 3 weeks from no place at all.