Since we made our home in SE PDX back in 2003, the house has been in need of a paint job.
My Papa was good about painting a side of the house every year, but that had stopped happening a while ago, and things were starting to bubble, peel and crack. Years would come and go - and the job would be brought up and promptly shelved for lack of time or money. The roof and insulation upgrade were taken care of, but the exterior paint job lingered.
Well....this year we got it done.
With the help of my buddies Dave and Dan, we conquered the mountain of cleaning, sanding, recaulking and window taping that surrounds a singular house painting project. With about a week's worth of grunt work done, my Dad dropped in with his paint compressor unit and painted everything in about 5 hours. Our place on 72nd was built in the 40s - and has always been either white or cream color. In recent years, cream had been the trend, but our latest attempt returns it to white.
Dad stayed over Saturday (we went to see Eagle Eye that evening) and Sunday - until we finally had everything finished and cleaned up. All that's left is the trim, which is currently slated to be black - per Alexis' vision.
Next mission? The reclamation of the basement? You never know...
In a last ditch effort to enjoy summer, my folks decided to escape to the coast. Things are different now, compared with the long-passed summers....when my family would rent a house near Rockaway Beach. Life revolved around hauling in crab from Garibaldi and Nahalem Bay, and generally forgetting the world for a week.
The feeling of drying sand on my feet as I climbed the graying wood steps to the sliding glass door. Sand dollars in a shoebox. Sneaking cigarettes behind the sand dunes. Baba sitting in a chair - with her small feet on the ottoman - reading a book. Playing ping-pong in the garage with my Papa. Sandcastle fortresses by the dozen.
So I was happy that Greer and I could join them - if only for a couple days. The folks were situated in an RV park about a stones' throw from our old stomping grounds....between Nadonna Beach and Wheeler.
And of course, we would be going crabbing.
My folks are great at spoiling us with good food. Upon our arrival on Friday afternoon, Mom casually mentioned that we would be having razor clams for dinner. While this didn't count much in Greer's sphere....I was very pleased. And so it went, some time for visiting and fun with Greer.....and then the food. Mmmmmm....and discussion of our crabbing plans for Saturday. This would be Greer's introduction to the hunt.
After some fiddling around, Dad and I determined to rent an aluminum boat, crab nets and bait from a nearby dock for $65....a tidy sum for the two-hour privilege of working your tail off for a few pounds (hopefully) of crab meat.
After idling into the bay, we quickly realized something. This was not my father's 26-foot Bayliner. That boat had been sold a while back. We were two big men (and one little guy) in a smallish, moderately stable boat. So be it.
Greer was very anxious to hold a crab, and made sure we understood the urgency. The rings and traps went in, and we waited as long as we could (about five minutes) before making a run. Rings up....nothing but oversize females and kelp. Rings down. Trap up....two old keepers with a deep purple/brown shells. Trap down. Into the long Styrofoam cooler go two future crab louies.
Greer eagerly grabbed at one of the small ones - on his way back to the ocean. Instead of tossing him back, Greer sought to examine - to his undoing. Pinch pinch....and then the howling.
No matter what I did to try and draw him back in, his interest in our adventure had receded - and he now eyed our harvest with a certain fear. Every ten minutes would hear a pointed question about when we were going home. Sorry, son....buy the ticket, take the ride.
Two hours later, we returned home tired and soaked to the bone - with nine of the crabby buggers. Dad cleaned them and I boiled them near the dock. As the afternoon waned, all four of us sat out on a picnic bench next to the RV and cracked our hard earned crab.
Greer speared the shell of a leg with one of his utensils - as if exacting a measure of revenge. Then he got bored, and went back to coloring.
As Fall begins to swallow Summer, it's always a good idea to hit the trails. Nature is in full transformation - and it's worth every minute you can spare to watch closely.
As I've mentioned before, my Fall refuge is indeed that - a wildlife refuge near Ridgefield, Washington. With the exception of a few trails, the area is largely untraversed - and full of opportunities to see birds in their element. Everything from Great Blue herons, Sandhill cranes, egrets, ducks, geese and songbirds galore.
On this particular morning, Dan and I decided to explore a different arm of the preserve - one that we had been down years previous. After pushing through overgrowth, sticker bushes, etc. we rediscovered a spot we had been to before - and sat there in the sun - watching the occasional heron or duck glide in and out of view.
The best was yet to come though...
On the way home, we found the mother lode of all blackberry patches - adjacent to a side trail. You could stand in one spot and pick a half-gallon, it was THAT good. As we would fill containers and plastic bags we had with blackberries, we would turn a corner and stumble upon another amazing harvest - just waiting to be discovered.
It's hard when someone you care about moves away. Instead of meeting up once in a while, you only get an occasional visit - usually when they come back to see family - or during the summer/holidays.
In the case of our old friend Anne, she came back to defend the faith.
Anne and her partner, Nancy have been an important part of our fabric for a while now. When Greer was born they embraced the role of godparents. If we needed a break to escape, they would be there to look after him. When Greer needed someone to hold onto at his sister's funeral, they were there as well. At every turn, whether at church or elsewhere - Greer could always count on a hug/kiss from his comadres.
So, when Anne got the call to attend seminary in Denver, it was hard for all of us. Still....Anne had been called, and you can't ignore that.
As a part of her post-grad confirmation, she returned to Bridgeport UCC to deliver a sermon - and of course, have a little catch up time with the boy. While Greer was his usual shy self initially, it didn't take long before he was hanging off Anne and reconnecting.
It's good to come home....even if it's just for a little while.
Went to bed late the night before after watching a movie with my buddy Ira. Woke up early this morning by the Greermonster and was prodded down to the basement where Veggietales were quickly brought to life on the TV.
After a quick breakfast, I drove Greer to his morning aikido class, where he listened and followed instruction to the best of his 4-year old ability. Bedecked in a tie-dye and black sweats, he practiced rolling backward over either shoulder. Sensei John stepped in to assist whenever firm direction was needed. Still a lot of right side /left side confusion, but he's getting the picture. Also, he is settled enough to remain still in the learning position and has had senior students to practice with. It seems he's learning from their example.
And now the fun begins....
Not missing a beat, Greer and I bolted over to the Rose Garden for Greg Oden's Summer Slam - an event to help bring attention to local mentoring programs. When we arrived, Greer was gladly overwhelmed by the availability of bouncie castles and inflatable obstacle courses that abounded on site.
My first goal was being achieved. Exhaust the boy, and he will sleep like a stone.
After the second time around in the bouncie castle, we ventured inside of the Rose Garden and discovered that the Blazers basketball floor had been opened for the kids. G made a b-line for the hardwood, and asked for his small rubber basketball - complete with faded Maurice Lucas signature. He ran right into the thick of things and started flinging his toy ball at the hoop. Every which way - the ball went - except into the hoop, but he didn't care. Greer was flush with the Basketball Jones, and was tearing around amidst a crowd of older, and thankfully patient kids. I had a hard time pulling him away.
After heading back outside for more time in the inflatable castle, the man of the hour - Greg Oden - rolled up in a black SUV. He unfolded his towering frame out of the vehicle - sporting a new Obama t-shirt- and was quickly set upon by a mass of kids. I handed Greer his toy ball - and a Sharpie pen - for Oden to sign. And sure enough, the boy got his autograph....right next to Maurice Lucas.
We followed Oden and the crowd to a nearby tent, where he sat all the kids down and spoke briefly about the importance of childhood mentors - after which and challenged anyone to a game of Guitar Hero or Dance Dance Revolution - two of his favorite video games (which were set up inside the Rose Garden).
We decided to head back inside for a root beer and more time on the hardwood. This time, Greer was more interested in playing with/against the big kids and their full-size basketballs. While I took a rest on the sidelines, Greermonster went at it with a vengeance....stepping into a free-for-all where he was the shortest kid on the court.
He was like a little red menace, doggedly following the ball and going after anyone that held it still for a moment. It's a wonder he didn't get mowed over, but those on the court looked after him, and even gave him a couple chances to handle the ball. Still, it was a riot to watch him go at it.
The most fun I had was playing keep away with Greer - once I got a handle on one of the larger balls. I dribbled back and forth with both hands, as boyo would chase the action - invariably knocking it loose and jumping on the ball with a wild giggle. Not long after, Greer found himself in the company of some adoring Blazer Dancers, who posed for a photo - worthy of his locker at school.
Before we took off, we had one more chance to meet Oden, who was inside the Rose Garden - talking to members of the various mentoring programs that had booths.
It was then that I noticed the pen.
In the heat of Greer getting his ball signed, the Sharpie had disappeared...at least from my mind. But, lo and behold there it was - in Greg's mammoth hand - achieving its fifteen minutes of fame as a marker.
It seemed a shame to ask for it back, so instead, we settled for photo with the big guy.
To say that Greer had a full day is somewhat of an understatement. Having met his favorite Trailblazer in person, played on the home court of the Rose Garden - and managing to score a root beer off of Dad....well.....it doesn't get much better than that.
Until he got home, of course....and we decided to forget cooking dinner and order Chinese Delicacy take-out.
As Labor Day approached, there were murmurs around the house - that some sort of last minute getaway might be in the mix. A few calls later and a little strategy - and we were rumbling out of town Sunday morning toward Astoria - and the Lamplighter Motel. Upon arrival, we settled into the motel, grabbed our usual burger fix at the Custard King, and rediscovered the cool seasonal Sunday market that is held downtown. As we walked around, Greer pulled down on our arms and pointed out every last thing that he desired - the greatest of which was a day-glo painted "marshmallow gun" - which predictably met the parental wall. Alex foraged for unique Christmas gifts amongst crafts, photos, paintings and fresh produce - as did I - and we ended up with a few winners for December.
Greer was dead set on getting out to the beach after that. Although the sun was waning, we set out for a little time near the water, and managed to catch a breeze as well. The wind was gusty enough for Greer to wrangle his 20 ft long dragon kite, which flew as far as we could let it out. Dinner was the capper....some great homemade clam chower, and a little fried cod at the nearby Ship Inn.
Monday dawned early as Greer decided to amble into our bed in his usual way. I sat at our laptop browsing the internet until the draw to escape outside was too much. One of my favorite things to do while we're visiting the coast is to get out early in the morning. Even if it's only to drive through the vacant streets of Astoria to get a cup of coffee and a paper. Something about the quiet of the morning - and the nearby ocean.
Back with two cups of joe and the morning fishwrap, we relaxed in our room. Greer got sucked into Cartoon Network while we freshened up and prepared to enjoy Day Two. Giant breakfast at the Pig and Pancake got the day going on a delicious note. A healthy dose of razor clams, pancakes and fruit was just the ticket. A coastal visit without fresh clams or oysters isn't complete in my book.
More art fare shopping - this time on the Washington side near Chinook. A glass bauble here, a handmade kaleidoscope there....doesn't take much time before the Christmas money evaporates. After we'd busted the bank, we headed north out of Long Beach for another attempt at kite flying. Unfortunately, the wind was fickle and we spent more time running to keep the thing aloft, that sitting back against the wind.
In lieu of flight, we picked up a couple of plastic buckets and quested to build a formidable sandcastle....the type that pushes back the sea...for a while, at least. Back in my earlier days at Neskowin and Rockaway Beach, a would spend the better part of the day digging moats and building a mini-sand metropolis - fortified by wall after wall. Watching the ocean take it's toll was always the payoff....guessing where the tsunami would break through first....and occasionally stepping in for a quick repair.
Greer relished this exercise and quickly became a seasoned foreman on sandcastle construction team. We watched as the first wave soaked way the outside wall and melted the moat. Greer flapped his arms, pointing at the destruction with boyish satisfaction....and then we left it to the sea.
On our way back, we were compelled to stop in Astoria at the Custard King - once again. Wizard burgers, fries and a chocolate milkshake to go. Much like Super King back at home....the King is the Thing.
Since we made our home in SE PDX back in 2003, the house has been in need of a paint job.
With the help of my buddies Dave and Dan, we conquered the mountain of cleaning, sanding, recaulking and window taping that surrounds a singular house painting project. With about a week's worth of grunt work done, my Dad dropped in with his paint compressor unit and painted everything in about 5 hours. Our place on 72nd was built in the 40s - and has always been either white or cream color. In recent years, cream had been the trend, but our latest attempt returns it to white.
