tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-233091592024-03-06T22:55:51.808-08:00Slices of Pi from the Pi in the Sky RanchSweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-19818433362917485432016-07-27T18:17:00.000-07:002016-07-27T18:27:01.781-07:00Visiting Corvallis/Entitlement and Exceptionalism<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">So
the trip back up to Corvallis went pretty good it was great to see my
cousins, my aunt, my folks, and my brother and sister-in-law in
Sacramento sad that it had to be my cousin Dave's memorial service.
Also wonderful to hang out with Lucy for an evening.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
got to stay at my parents new place at Eskaton and help them unpack
and put things away and find things but not too much just enough. It
is my mom's house after all and you've got to watch out what you do in
another woman's house.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
took Monitor Pass to get to Sacramento, that's too long a route and I
don't think I'll ever take it again. Especially concerning was where
Hwy 4 came into Hwy 89 and there was no sign to tell me that there
was a stop sign coming up, thankfully there was no one coming in that
direction and I survived.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then
after Sacramento I spent nine hours getting up to Corvallis and
Michael had the house in pretty good shape for me to put my things
down. I had to straighten up a few things but it only took me about a
half an hour/45 minutes about par for the course when I'd come back
home from work so I figure I saved about seven months of doing that
every day. And then as I got energy I did more things like straighten
up the kitchen; put away and wash dishes. So by the time I left I had
swept the kitchens, bathrooms, and basement, and put clean rugs down
in all those places. And I even cleaned out the refrigerator, some
things were left in there from when I left around Thanksgiving!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Also
I got some Corvallis only items at the grocery stores. Don't know why
they don't have sliced green olives down in this part of the world,
plus they don't have Toby's salad dressings or Portland catchup and
mustard so those things had to be gotten. Also I got a whole quart
jar of dried chives from the co-op, can't be without those. I think
that the whole quart jar I got probably cost about as much as one of
those little spice jars that you would get here in the grocery
stores.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Also
I noticed about Thursday that I was twisting when I sat and stood in
a way that I haven't here in the Owens Valley. Don't know if it was
the kitchen table chairs or just Corvallis angst.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Vernon
had left a whole bunch of stuff in the guest bedroom downstairs that
needed to be gotten rid of so that the bedroom could become a
guestroom again. This was important because Michael's daughter Katie
was visiting Thursday.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So
on Monday I went and got enough boxes to pack up his stuff. I packed
it all up and cleaned the room. There was enough stuff to fill the
whole middle section of my big rig—a bout the size of what would go
in the bed small pick up, he had access to such a vehicle. Included
in what I packed up were two large laundry loads of clothes he left
and his health books the, Merck Manual, a PDR, etc.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway
that got delivered to him on Tuesday when I went by the Farmstand to
talk with Cheryl about getting my new phone. And I got the bedding
back including the pillows, yes I wanted and the house needed those.
I didn't take the sheets back, allegedly they been ripped and I found
replacements at Kmart for only six bucks so what the hell. But I had
to wash it all. So I did lots of laundry between that and getting
some of the other parts of the house together for Katie's visit on
Thursday. I think in total I made three beds that day. Had to change
the sheets on the downstairs living room futon as they'd gotten dirty
when the fireplace/wood stove insert had been removed.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Had
a great meal with my sons at Nearly Normals on Tuesday, they are so
fun. And got to see my daughter and grandkids on Friday. Showed them
pictures of my new place and the recovered winged chairs/loveseat.
Their comments were the same that they'd have to come down with magic
markers to write on them again. LOL! And it was great to deliver the
keyboard to the grandkids, don't know how he thought he could take
that, but he did. Also got a blanket that had been Zeke's back in
that process.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But
in setting up the downstairs bathroom for Katie's visit I noticed
missing towels in the bathroom, had I taken them? And in the bedroom
a missing clock radio and clip on lamp. And upstairs in the kitchen
my salt/pepper mill that I'd gotten most likely a wedding present or
earlier from my parents was missing. He'd taken those things,
figuring I'd not be returning. Don't know where he got that idea
from. I was still going to come up and visit my kids and grandkids
and as long as Michael owns the house that's where I'm staying. He
claims that the salt/pepper mill was a gift from his sister, well I
bet that one was in the kitchen equipment (cooking pots/pans and
knives) that got left at Pink House and who knows where they/it
are/is now. He didn't pursue Michele and Reese very actively for
their return. I don't see why I should have to make up the difference
on those losses. I did replace the clip on lamp since the guest room
has very little light, but it cost me $13 which unemployed as I am is
something I shouldn't have had to spend money on.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
left the house with the right things for it to continue and for them
to be there during my visits. And I made sure there were things for
him, Vernon, to use, a blender, a coffee grinder, etc. and when I
noticed that I hadn't taken the salt/pepper mill (the one we used by
the stove—not having one at my house here) as well as the tortilla
warmer, he sent them back to me along with a few other things I'd
forgotten. And he seemed happy to do that.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is interesting about the things he left behind like the suitcase that
he used to have his drum stuff in and the rug he'd used for his drum
kit when he was doing gigs, those were things were Michael's. I did
use that rug to appoint the guest room. But he left his rug that he
had the drums on in the downstairs living room, pretty ugly and
stained I must say.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When
I returned him all the stuff he left in the guestroom he complained
that now he'd have to somehow haul it away and that it could've been
taken to the bicycle collective. Well that wasn't my job to do that
and it certainly wasn't Michael's. Michael is an elder and he's not
very good at cleaning. Vernon had the gall to say that he just
figured that somebody was going to buy the house and they would just
trash it anyway and that he, Vernon, was an elder too. Well since it
was my responsibility for bringing Vernon into the house I guess it
was my responsibility to get rid of his crap at least for Michael.
And I even returned the sleeping bag and Thermarest air mattress that
he'd given me.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One
time Vernon told me of a former lover throwing his stuff over the
fence when he left it at her house. I think he was living with his
cousin who lives right across the fence from her, and I think this
was the gymnast and I think this is when he also got together with
Marjori the first time. So maybe it is a repeating pattern. And he
didn't take his stuff from Pink House either or arrange to get it
taken care of but there were extenuating circumstances with that.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
did leave the towel that he came to the house with. I may just burn
it when I'm up there next. And I guess I don't really want those
towels back now that they've touched his skin and I can't have his
skin. But I hate to see them used in their house. And I do want the
salt/pepper mill returned it was in the house before he got there and
it was a gift from my parents—it belongs in the house for my use
when I'm visiting. Maybe when they get married someone can give them
one as a wedding present since. I guess he's decided that it was a
wedding announcement when he talked about him and Marjori getting
back together after being apart 12 years and he said that you never
mention your exes in the wedding announcement.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
when I mentioned that I wanted the towels back and the salt/pepper
mill he said I could give him back the iPad and the Mac Mini and that
two can play at this game. Well those were gifts and they were freely
given at one point. I did actually think that I might give him back
the Mac Mini once I got wherewithal to replace it with something of
my own.But he's got his own MacBook that he can get repaired for
about the same amount of money. The IPad was loving you engraved to
me at the time it was given.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reenie
was surprised at my emotions about Vernon, she said you used to be
something, but are we now?! And because I feel so strongly about this
and have felt a lot of callousness from him about my feelings that
bond/connection is gone along with most likely the friendship. Reenie
suggested that we might want to have a mediation, well maybe next
time I'm up but I doubt that he's really into that. We did have time
to talk on Friday and it was no better in person than texting or on
Messenger.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">At
any rate the next time I'm up I won't have to spend any time dealing
with Vernon 's stuff and I will be able to easily pack up the stuff
that I wasn't able to get this trip or to take when I came down the
first time. I know that I have room in my storage shed and will have
room in the rig (it was full this time). And then I'm being
responsible for my stuff not leaving it to Michael to have to deal
with. I'll even be able to get the Manzanar bed. Maybe I'll get to
visit with people instead of packing and reclaiming; that would be a
lot nicer!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway
I'm seriously sad about this and I don't see a resolution except for
forgetting. It's hard to remember the good times I know I did get to
do things that I might not of gotten to do, but I feel very ripped
apart. Michael did cuddle with me a bit and the first time I broke
into tears, I haven't cuddled with anyone since Vernon.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I'm
posting this as part of my healing process whether people think I'm
taking the high road or the low road is not my concern, I'm taking
the road that I think I need to take to heal whatever the elevation.
And I find Vernon's sense of entitlement about the stuff at the house
and the sense of exceptionalism toward Michael very hard to deal
with. I know Michael's not the easiest person and made it difficult
for him but I don't think this passive aggressive stuff on Vernon's
part has made anything better. I mean if we were using stronger
language about my stuff that he took from the house we might use the
word theft. Also I was in that house for a quarter of a century and I
still have emotional ties to it and to it looking nice and I
entrusted that what I left would be respected until I returned.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">And
what's really funny is the last break up like this (back in 1980) was
with a bassist. Maybe I should stay away from musicians. I'm going to
take some of the things that are left in my house from his time here and that
were at the Pi to my ritual place on Friday and put them there,
including the drumstick earrings.</span></span></div>
SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-85144924463017850352016-07-10T15:16:00.000-07:002016-07-27T18:12:43.494-07:00Addendum to The Eight Years<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">So
my post about the eight years gathered some some replies from Vernon.
The main concern he voiced was about my comments over his
un(der)employment in Corvallis. I don't know whether it was a fear of
rejection or what. Finally he did say that he was grateful for the
place to live. But still I'm not even a footnote, for the time that
he and I had together for eight years in the midst of the story of
him and Marjori.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
focusing on the financial is not my main concern, it's not the thing
that is the hardest or the most heartbreaking for me. Secrets that he
shared only with me, and the intimacies that that I/we never
had with anyone else. Those things are so much more intangible than
talking about financial support or in him not being homeless because
he was in my house for eight years. In all not acknowledging the
relationship we had is the most hurtful.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
thought better of him, that we did have a friendship, and a bond that
would be respected in our absence from each other. That I would have
his ear to discuss things that were hard in my life—at all
times—and forever.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">However
subsequent discussions we had after I moved down here and he went
back up to Corvallis should've warned me that that might not be the
case. My struggles with Zack, who was the manager of my cousin's
mobile home park, that I talked with him about were met with a well
you just have to understand there will be difficult people in your
life and you just have to put up with it and you can't expect
anything to be better. This is basically what he said when I moved in
about the carpet. Like Yaney you have to accept shit in your living
space because there are other people who would just love to have a
place at all. But really don't we all deserve to live in a decent
place? Maybe not at the level the Americans live. But this is what is
expected in America. And who would want to visit my house? And how
would it affect the work I'm trying to do here?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
guess that's what it comes down to is that I wasn't worth it, for him
to really pursue contributing financially, or now even in friendship
by acknowledging the eight years. I don't know that anybody really
thought that I was worth it, looking at everyone that I come across,
even my mother. Russell did his best considering the employment
situation in Corvallis and with the resources that he had as a
Vietnam Vet. Michael still feels that he has a financial commitment
to me and he is doing what he can. But with unemployment it's a very
hard road right now for me.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
when we were together and he was having conversations with Marjori my
feelings were always taken into consideration—at least by her—or
so it was reported to me. I never did have a conversation with her
about the things she and he we discussing in renewing their
relationship. But now that I'm gone, conveniently so I'd say, my
feelings mean nothing, they are just an inconvenience.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe
this explains his crankiness to me after I moved. Maybe deep down he
really knows he supposed to honor me, maybe he never really did. And
maybe deep down he knows he isn't now. But the press he gives himself
says it that's the kind of man he is and that's what most people
believe him to be.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;">And
I wonder if part of the problem with American males on the left is
that they switch their guilt about America by putting it off on the
women. And Vernon is in that grouping. What else is “American Woman
stay away from me” all about? How Adam and Eve and the snake.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Futura-Medium;">Dang
he was the cutest thing I've ever seen! And minus a few crushes that
left me broken hearted for a bit, this is my first break up since
1980. I think I will be gentle on myself about it. As I maintain,
public acknowledgement of our eight years, or what he felt good or
bad about those eight years, would go a long way towards repairing
this broken trust.</span></span></span></div>
SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-41218070915913050242016-07-05T19:56:00.000-07:002016-07-05T20:10:13.710-07:00We Had Eight Years—Vernon Huffman and I<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">2008</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">Drums/Twitter—August
25, 2008” </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">@VernonHuffman</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">what kind of drums
and why aren't you playing with our band?”</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">Google
Chat—October 17, 2008</span></span></span></div>
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="width: 87px;">
<colgroup><col width="87"></col>
</colgroup><tbody>
<tr>
<td width="87"></td>
</tr>
</tbody></table>
<div dir="LTR" id=":3nd">
<div dir="LTR" id=":3lk">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">10:02
PM <b>me</b>: hi ya. Did you enjoy playing with the group last
night? it was fun to hear you on the timpanis.</span> </span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">10:56
PM</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><b>Vernon</b>: It was a bit like going back to my school days,
Yaney, and I'm not one who generally longs for that, but it was
interesting. Most intriguing point in the evening was the kiss.</span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">11:11
PM <b>me</b>: Well, I wasn't sure how you felt about that. Still a
bit hesitant after your ex neighbour. Are you going to the pink
painting party--do you have congas?</span></blockquote>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">Over
to his place—October 18, 2008</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">Michael
Heart Attack—October 24-27, 2008</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">Hot
Springs Xmas Day—2008</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;">2009</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #1f2326;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Moved
in January </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">2010</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Dan
Death—April 23, 2010</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">2011</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Mom
Death—January 16, 2011—Service in Rapid City SD January 19, 2011</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mom's
Service Oregon UCC Hillsboro—Date ??</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Derek
Wake—March 17-19, 2011</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Boulder—July
1-17, 2011</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2012</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> ELAW—March
2012</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Working
for Cynthia—April 10, 2012-June 13, 2012 (bad day?)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Green
Convention—July 10-16, 2012</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">V
Family Gathering—July 12-16, 2012 Shared bus back from
Seattle/Portland</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Harvest
and Co—July 19-August 27/September 3, 2012</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Counseling—August
30 through December 8, 2012</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2013</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Harvest
move in to new apt—March 15, 2013</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Max
Graduation UO—June 17, 2013</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zeke
Move Out—September 2, 2013</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Charlie
and Julia Wedding—October 19, 2013 (Vernon, Michael and I went)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Y
Paya Berkeley—November 20-23, 2013</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2014</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> Shelter
night work—November 2013-March 2014</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Owens
Valley Visit/Manzanar 45—April 22-29, 2014</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Marjori
Break—June 13-July 29, 2014</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2015</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> 2-89—January
13-May 19, 2015 end of him playing with the CNHB</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Walking
Water—August 25-November 1, 2015</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Moving
Days—November 22-30, 2015 (last day November 30)</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2016</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> May
9 (I saw May 11) and May 16—Marjori announcements</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0.49in;">
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />So
I followed my MySpace crush on Twitter and from there I got
acquainted with Vernon and found out that he needed space to store
his rather large drum set. So since we, Michael and I, had space in
the basement and because he was part of a group of people that are my
friends I thought we could help him out.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
had already met him somewhere around February 2007. He was helping
Michele Darr put on a PeaceWorker training through the Rural
Organizing Project/Code Pink and was taking notes at the very first
meeting. Michele and I have known each other when I worked at Oregon
PeaceWorks and she knew I was a good organizer so I got tapped for a
lot to put into that training. And in one of our early conversations
he and I had, I said, “I would like to see you ride up my hill.”
What a line!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
and Michele went on a bike ride for six months in 2006 called
Catalysts of Hope. The ride took them across country through the
South; up to St. Louis, and over to DC where they arrived for World
Car Free Day and a few other things. That said, and as I've said
before it was a crucial time for me as I just left Oregon PeaceWorks
and was trying to get back into Corvallis and Michele had just had
two little kids, and I had a new granddaughter, and I hoped that
they/we could get together, and it could be kind of a normal thing
that I would be mom or grandmother like. It was a hard return to
Corvallis, alas.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
may have met him earlier when he came to talk with Peter about
canvassing for Oregon PeaceWorks (between 2003 and 2005) but it
would've been a brief meeting as he was probably leaving after
talking to Peter and I was just coming to work. Seems that the
Seattle area had the first Give Peace a Dance, that he was
instrumental in. As many of you know that was one of Oregon
PeaceWorks main fundraisers and I think we continued the tradition
after it left the Seattle area. So our paths had been intersecting.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway
so we met after my offer to him to have a place to store his drums or
set them up actually. It took a while for him to ride up the hill to
check out the place. But when he did it was a day that I had the
worst back shoulder ache ever and I was asleep on the ottoman when he
came up. I apologized for being so. We went downstairs for him to
check out the drum space and he did it by clapping I can't remember
what he called it maybe the echo maybe something else. But he decided
that the space would work for his drums acoustically. We sat and
chatted for a while in the space and then for some reason we ended up
going into the computer room to look up something online. That's when
he started rubbing my shoulders and oh Lord the God's were talking to
me and he was getting a bit excited himself. However that's as far as
it got that night.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But
any rate being the good community person and hostess that I am I
tried to get him to be able to play drums with various groups. One
group was a little ad hoc jazz group that was playing music in the
gazebo at Central Park. He didn't really get there in time because he
was helping Michele out with some car problems that she was having
off in Lebanon. But he did get there at the end and helped me carry
my <i>real heavy</i> soprano sax case back to the car. That's when we
discovered that he had (and Marjori) been next-door neighbors to my
other Langley crush, Derek Parrott who really broke my heart. So I
did put out some feelers to Langley friends to find out what kind of
a guy he might be etc. Sometime around then I went to hear him when
he was playing at the second Saturday event for the Homeless Shelter
and it was nice to dance to is drumming. He was very appreciative
that I danced to him/them.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
other band I was playing with (kinda called it a middle-aged middle
school band), was the Corvallis New Horizons Band and they laughed at
me when I said I had a drummer friend who might want to join us. I
didn't understand why everybody else could say I have a friend that
can play XYZ, like a clarinet or a flute, please bring them. But not
a drummer I guess. However he did ride over to check out the band and
the next week he came and played with us. We were doing band practice
in a middle school band room. It was so good to have a real drummer
playing with us especially since there were timpanis and hearing them
played was just wonderful. After band practice we went and chatted a
lot outside in the parking lot and walked around to the back of the
gym and I kissed him. Was very nice, kind a like when I was younger,
and those kisses that we had back then. That was October 16<sup>th</sup>,
2008.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On
October 18, 2008 we were chatting on MySpace, I think since I can't
seem to find the records in Gmail. And I told him to go slow, adagio.
Well about fifteen minutes later I said to myself Yaney he's not in
Oakland or in Portland he's only ten minutes away go check it out. So
I went down to Veggie House where he lived. We went to the Thai
restaurant around the corner and had a wonderful meal and I had
leftovers which had meat in it, oh no, but he let me put them in the
Veggie House refrigerator anyway. On the walk there to the Thai
restaurant we walked past a portable storage unit, a POD, and he said
something about how he wished he had one of those and that's what he
would live in and just move it from wherever he wanted to go
especially to Dar es Salaam, oh no! Oh well shades of Russell and all
my ex hippie boy friends who wanted to live in a tipi or a tent. Also
I mentioned how sketchy my body was, I was in pain most of the time
this from un-recovered stress from working at Oregon PeaceWorks and
driving my then 79 VW van back-and-forth to Salem. He was very
concerned about what I said about my body.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then
we got talking about a picture on calendar that was up at the Veggie
House kitchen wall. There was a picture of Bolivia where people were
fighting for their water rights and I said how much that area looked
like the Owens Valley. He said it look like his home town country,
Big Timber, Montana. Then we went to look at the map out in the
Veggie House dining room, so I could show him where the Owens Valley
was. He said his parents had been in California during World War II
and when I asked where, he said they were in Victorville. Well that's
where I'd lived and gone from kindergarten to high school. So I
thought this was a sign that I should get together with him. So we
went upstairs to his room he took my ear rings out very gently and
put them on the stack of drums. It was like coming home. Mind you it
was a very interesting bed because it was a canvas cot. Before going
to bed with him I mentioned that I was scared, and he asked me what
the worst that could happen was, I said he could break my heart.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then
that next weekend Michael had a heart attack and Vernon helped me out
with that, he had been an EMT. He stayed with me that weekend and
that's when he introduced me to the shower ritual. I had never really
taken a shower with anyone else before and felt I had to rush through
it. The ritual consisted of us washing each other, him washing my
hair when needed, putting conditioner on, and combing through it.
Something his first wife had taught him to do. He also combed my long
hair every day, he loved it so much. I never cut it when we were
together and now I'm afraid to, because I don't think I'll be
attractive enough. I miss those rituals, shades of <b>Raising the Red
Lantern</b>. Michael got through the heart attack without surgery or
stents he's a stubborn old lad, isn't he?</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
spent time going over to Vernon's for <i>cot time</i>, which I made
much more comfortable by bringing over a comforter, some blankets,
and some pillows. So even when I wasn't there I was making his life
more comfortable. Now he has the bedding that we shared in the
downstairs room, my bedding, and it is now making it more comfortable
for he and Marjori. I'm not sure that I really gave him the bedding
(sheets, pillows, comforters) I did ask him to make sure they weren't
in that downstairs room as Michael was going to replace the furnace
and they would have gotten destroyed because the furnace entrance is
through that closet. He still has things in that room, including his
trunk full of mementos and two shelves of bike stuff. So even now I
am making his life more comfortable and Marjori's too. And he is
still part of my life at least at the Pi.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We
stayed overnight at his house, Veggie House, the day Obama won the
election in 2008. Michael was a bit sad we weren't up at the Pi but
hanging out in Veggie House was better. Although Vernon and I weren't
really thrilled about Obama, we had voted for Cynthia McKinney.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then
in December I went to the Bay Area for my brother's graduation from
San Francisco University and I had a bad MRSA on my leg that I had to
get treated in Sacramento so I couldn't go in the hot tub at the
fancy hotel. I did tell everyone that I had another boyfriend as well
as Michael, my mother wasn't too happy, my aunt was OK. And my mother
was suspicious when I ordered spinach instead of lettuce for my
salad. Got a watch out when your daughters hanging out with
vegetarians or vegans. What strange puppies I bring home!</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">One
time as we were coming down from his room Veggie House I stopped to
look in the big mirror that was at the landing on the stairs. It had
been a sorority house before and I gave myself kind of a dirty look
because I wasn't happy with how I looked. I was about 185 pounds.
Vernon said to me you be nice to that woman because I love her.
Anyway by the time of the close of the year we had decided that
Vernon was going to move up to the Pi in the Sky Ranch with us. We
all celebrated by going to the hot springs as it was a Xmas Day
ritual that Micheal and I had, he really loved that. He moved in with
us in January of 2009.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
I began to relearn how to ride a bicycle and eventually even rode all
the way up my hill. My goal was to be able to do that by the time
Gretchen got back from sabbatical think around May 2009. I did take a
few breaks it's a tough hill, with an 18% grade followed by a 22%
grade, the latter is actually easier.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
was very nice to have him there he help me out with Michael's medical
issues because Michael had some. He'd had a hip replacement in April
2008 and that was very stressful. Just getting him taken care of
appropriately and me not being able to be there all the time was
really hard. And I had just started my job at the Unitarian
Universalists in Corvallis (UUFC) that March. And after the hip
replacement most likely because he been in the hospital he gotten
pneumonia I think that was around June 2008. So I was exhausted by
all of this by the time of the heart attack.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway
Vernon started working on getting the Corvallis bicycle co-op running
and I continued getting into the swing of things at my job. It was
good to have another person around the house to help with things. I
even found a better bicycle at the co-op, a purple Bridgestone, which
I came to find out who traveled all over New Zealand and Australia.
And we all, Michael he and I, went various places as a trio. We went
up to Port Townsend to see Wayne Horvitz and Timothy Young and other
people play at their annual New Year's Eve bash. We visited friends,
sisters, relatives it was fun. And we all learned how to accommodate
each other, especially Michael's being slow on walking.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
when the last of the brother cats, the boys, died he was there to
help out with that. And since I couldn't stand living more than four
days without a cat in the house I went to the animal shelter got a
cat that I thought he would like, she also liked me. Her name was
Starfish and still is, but she's referred to as Fishy Cat. She is
with him now and I miss her very much. The ferals don't make up for
her and because of them I can't have a cat of my own.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">He
was good with my kids they liked him. He was wonderful with my
grandkids. And he was there to help me to commiserate with me about
the bad way I was treated by Ryan and his mother when my last
grandchild Jackson was born in late June 2010. I never got to hold
him that day. I finally did but it is one of the greatest heartbreaks
of my life. The reason Ryan's mother didn't want to bring me back
down to Albany Corvallis was because Michael was up at a KBOO meeting
in Portland anyway. So unslept I had to go to the Lucky Lab and
listen to some woman rail against Seth and what he had done horrible
at the Green party local chapter that she was in. This issue
continues to this day somewhat with folks thinking that Michael Meo
should be allowed to continue to represent us as a Green but that's
another story.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">By
then the motion already been set for Bike4Peace 2010 (July 24 through
September 22). Seems in a Gmail chat that I invited Cynthia McKinney
to come along with us and she did. I got time off work to go on the
bike ride and everyone was very supportive. It was really funny when
we left the house of Common Sense in Oakland how people there
especially the guys were like hot and heavy on Ron and Vernon to take
care of Cynthia. But they didn't bother with me because they didn't
know that I invited her or because it was a male thing. And when one
person asked me why I came on Bike4Peace, (I think it was the woman
who got kicked out of KPFA for doing photocopying for her daughter
and the police got called but I'm not sure), I told her it was
because I was in love with Vernon. This surprised her. But it was a
new relationship and I knew if I didn't go on the bike ride the
relationship would be over. Also there I got to meet Malcolm X's
grandson. Malcolm X had been very important in my life one time when
it was really hard,I had read his autobiography and I think it kept
me from committing suicide and therefore also made sure that Max was
born.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">However
neither Cynthia nor I were good enough bike riders to continue riding
bikes on the trip so the group decided to get a car instead of
tandems and Cynthia and I would be in the sag vehicle. I remember
crying so much in disappointment in Carson City when we picked up the
car because I thought that I'd really failed, that I really wasn't up
to the relationship with Vernon because I couldn't ride a bike that
good. But in retrospect I don't think the idea of getting tandems
would have worked, at least in my tandem experience with Vernon. It
doesn't make it any easier to ride up the hill on a tandem. But maybe
he never got our tandem in good enough repair for it to really be a
real test for me. He has tricks for getting bikes to ride in ways
that I never could do because he knows how to futz with a bike. I
think the repair and adjustment is better.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bike4Peace
2010 ended his employment at Cyclotopia and he never really had
employment after that much, but he did have funds to contribute to
the household and to at least pay for the cell phone bill that we
three had as a family together. So things settled into routines. He
and I and Max went up to Derek Parrott's living wake in March 2011.
Vernon ran into people who had known him and Marjori, this was before
they got reacquainted via Facebook. People were still upset with him
in the way that he left/divorced her. But he always maintained at
least while we were together that it was the right decision and that
he was glad he made it.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
sometime around late 2011 early 2012 Zeke needed to move in with us
because his roommate who was an Iraqi veteran had gotten screwed over
by the VA and Zeke was about to lose his apartment and we didn't want
him to have a bad rental record. But it didn't go swimmingly to put
it mildly. The room wasn't really prepared for him and the modem was
in there so when we had to reset it and had to go in the room Zeke
was upset. Also he and Michael didn't get along and upon leaving he
would never come back into the house when Michael was there and won't
come in my house when Michael's around, ever. It is the major reason
why I left Michael. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">2012
brought many opportunities and many challenges, it was a very hard
year. One of the opportunities was the ELAW <span style="color: #262626;">Public
Interest Environmental Law Conference in Eugene in March. Vernon had
convinced the organizers to have a panel on Biking for Peace. The
panelists were, Cynthia McKinney, Ron Toppi, Michele Darr, and him.
Cynthia flew out for the event and she, Michele, Vernon, and I rode
from Corvallis to Eugene (a very nice bike ride, especially with a
stop at the Mennonite Bakery on Peoria Road). Ron took the train in
from Chico. We had just had snow and were cycling with snow still at
the sides of the road.The panel was interesting and Cynthia also
participated in another couple of panels. Vernon and I stayed at my
son, Max's in Eugene, Cynthia was hosted by a family, Ron stayed at a
conference organizers house and I think Michele stayed with friends.
The conference was hard on Ron since he couldn't bring his bike on
the Amtrak at Chico and had to rent/borrow one, also his hosts
weren't available to let him into their house when he needed to
because they were organizing an evening event.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #262626;">The
ELAW Conference was also when Cynthia mentioned that she was thinking
of running for senate in Georgia on the Green Party ticket. And over
a discussion along the bike path in Eugene Michele and Vernon crafted
a plan to make that happen. Vernon ended up going out to Atlanta to
help out on that, sadly the effort failed. I missed him so much and I
think that's when I finally went through </span><span style="color: #262626;"><i>the
change. </i></span><span style="color: #262626;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I
was so emotional. And</span></span><span style="color: #262626;"> then when
he came back our household almost fell apart due to the interactions
between him and Michael.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I
also got involved in Green politics on the statewide level and was
selected to be a delegate to the Green National Convention in 2012
back in the Baltimore area. It was really cool to get to see my
brother and sister-in-law's house and visit with my nephew. But the
convention was very demanding physically and I didn't sleep well as
my roommate insisted on having a light on at night.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">After
the convention, I came back to Harvest and Ryan and the kids needing
to move in with us because they were getting evicted. So from July
2012 to around Labor Day of 2012 we had Zeke living in one bedroom
and Harvest and her family living in the downstairs living room which
was the music room where all the drums and my saxes were. Seems they
had been evicted because rent hadn't been paid due to Ryan's drug
habit. Sadly in that process Ryan stole from both Vernon and me.
Money from Vernon that he'd earned while working for Cynthia and from
me, he almost stole my alto sax, and did steal my inheritance of
silver dollars from my grandmother Brooks (I did take him to court
for the latter). Finally Harvest and the kids got to move into
Sunflower House and stay there I think for a good nine months until
they got an apartment in Albany. That lasted for a good couple so
years until Ryan moved back in and did the same thing all over. Man
did he sell a lot of her stuff that last time, some of it was stuff
I'd gotten for her. She ended up in another homeless shelter and I
guess he's back on the straight narrow or whatever you want to call
it. They do have a rental house and are together again. We'll see.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Also
that's the time when Marjori came to visit us just after all that
happened in September of 2012. Vernon still thought he had made the
right decision after the visit (to divorce her). However the whole
time she referred to him as her husband!</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">2012
was so horrible, I also came to find out that I was almost fired
then. I don't know what I would have done without the women who put
on the annual UUFC Rummage Sale as I went through the whole
Ryan/Harvest thing. Also I think that's when my lower back began to
act up so much that I couldn't get out of bed or walk and when I got
</span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">plantar
fasciitis.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Anyway
Zeke finally got out of the house in 2013 and found a better place
where he is now and we reclaimed the room for Vernon because he was
having a night job working at the Homeless Shelter also known as the
Cold Men's Shelter. I got him a good mattress (the one I have now)
and put up black window coverings so he could sleep during the day.
They didn't hire him back for next year.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">So
around late 2012 I decided to check Facebook out for classmates from
my high school and then also Bishop. That ended up in me attending my
40 year reunion and getting acquainted with Paya, the movie about the
Paiute irrigation systems in the Owens Valley before my settler
ancestors arrived. And I also found out about one of the massacres
that happened, this one at Owens Lake that had included my great
grandfather, Alney McGee. I'd always thought the McGees were Irish,
but they were Scots who scabbed for the Brits in Northern Ireland. So
they had very bad history. Also, the LADWP was wanting to build a
Solar Ranch right across the highway from Manzanar (where my uncle,
an orphan of seven, was interred). The site for the Solar Ranch was
on my great grandparents' ranch that they had had to sell to the DWP.
So I felt the ancestors calling me back to the Owens Valley. Vernon
went with me to the 45</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>th</sup></span><span style="color: black;">
Anniversary of the Manzanar Pilgrimage in April of 2014. I wanted to
show him the Owens Valley. He thought it was too dry for him and also
that all my friends were too middle class. Although he did talk about
a good place to set up a bike coop in Independence.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">So
we returned home and I kept abreast of Owens Valley activities. One
that interested me was the Walking Water Pilgrimage, a three year
journey from Mono Lake to Los Angeles to highlight the loss of Owens
Valley water to LA. I joined the pilgrimage for the first leg, which
was from the headwaters of Lee Vining Creek, one of the creeks that
feeds Mono Lake, through to Owens Lake, the lake that LA dried up.
That journey went from September 1</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>st</sup></span><span style="color: black;">
through the 22</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>nd</sup></span><span style="color: black;">
2015. My last day at the UUFC was August 25</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>th</sup></span><span style="color: black;">,
I took the train that afternoon down to Sacramento where my brother
and sister-in-law live. I got down to my friends' house in Round
Valley a couple of days before the walk, and the night before the
walk was supposed to start my cousin called offering me a place to
live should I really be wanting to come back to Bishop/Owens Valley.
It's an old Forest Service single wide and is where I live now.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And
later in the summer of 2014 Marjori was having break from her
schooling, he wanted to go up and see her but she wasn't comfortable
with that and he didn't go. He did remark in 2012 about her coming
down and him having to pay for her her fare about how crazy he
thought that was. And then in 2014 he did start talking about her
joining our household. Well for a reasons I won't go into that would
have ended our having sex. And that was very hurtful, but since that
didn't happen we continued on, however it ruined the sense of oneness
I felt with him, something I'd never felt with anyone before.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">In
the meantime he got involved in the ballot measure 2-89 in Benton
County which would've banned GMO's being grown there. And he tried to
get hired at the Bike Coop but they didn't hire him. He'd started the
whole danged venture! His working on the 2-89 campaign ended him
playing with my band and I just could't bear to play without him
there so I also quit.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">After
Walking Water I spent three weeks with my parents at their house in
Big Bear Lake helping them get things ready for their move into a
care facility in the Sacramento area and came back to Bishop for a
couple of weeks to interview for jobs and oversee my place getting
ready for move in (which didn't really happen much). I returned to
Corvallis on November 1</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>st</sup></span><span style="color: black;">
and spent a month getting packed and ready to move down to Bishop. We
rented a 20 foot Uhaul, and I did need all that space. Vernon went
with me and drove. We had to go down the coast of Oregon and down to
Bakersfield/Mojave to get up 395 because I5 and 395 were undriveable
due to the snows. When we got there on Thanksgiving Day, the trailer
still wasn't ready, the carpet hadn't been replaced (it had tarry
skid marks on it) and there wasn't a working refrigerator. So we had
to keep the Uhaul for an extra day until those things could be
completed (they didn't charge us for any of this). It was very
difficult, moving is difficult enough. Vernon mentioned that folks in
other situations would be happy to have the space. I guess I'm not
worth decent flooring or a working refrigerator, how materialistic of
me. So we got enough moved in and settled so that we could put up the
bed and sleep there, we'd been sleeping at my cousin's.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">So
I sent him back up to Corvallis on November 30</span><span style="color: black;"><sup>th</sup></span><span style="color: black;">,
he thanked me for letting him help because it made him feel better
knowing where I was. Also at one time when my parents were visiting
Corvallis he thanked them for me. On one of those visits I was so
very visibly in love with him that my mother was worried. She didn't
think that he was a good deal because he'd had three divorces. Well I
think divorce comes with the territory when you're my age. </span></span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I
cashed out a pension that I didn't know about from HP to move down
here. But those funds have been depleted in the move and subsequent
getting the house up to snuff. The kitchen needed revamping somewhat,
when I moved in it only had one six inch wide drawer and needed more
cupboards and storage (at least I brought my wicker for the
meantime). And my furniture needed recovering after 43 years. At
least there's no hangman drawings on it any more. And there were a
few other storage solutions needed.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">Around
mid-April 2016 my debit card got hacked and I needed funds to go to
my parents and to a medical appointment for my hemochromatosis that I
found out I had via my Aunt Charlotte having it. I got from Michael
what funds he could offer for my trip and I needed some more so I
asked Vernon. He was pretty cranky about it. So when he made the
announcements on Facebook about Marjori and him I was hesitant to
call him. The announcements made me feel that I had been totally
erased from his timeline. After Bike4Peace 2010 he didn't really have
employment and we, Michael and I, were the main support for the
household. Yes he did get me a Mac Mini and an IPad somewhere around
2013, I think, because the old Windows '98 machine was a great
frustration to me and he was sad about that. He'd said that that was
what money was for. So I was very surprised by his crankiness about
my need for a bit of money in April (I think it was around $150).</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I
wish he'd called me before the announcements, I would have been
prepared and would have felt that I wasn't erased. But he just said
that he didn't have much computer time and that it was somebodyelses'
story. I had been fairly sanguine about him and Marjori prior to the
announcements, I even didn't get upset when Michael told me that
Vernon had come and gotten the tandem, because I'm sure they would be
needing it.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">Anyway
I posted some of my thoughts about the announcements and had a long
chat with his sister, Lois. Also others said that they cringed when
they read his announcement about being apart from Marjori for twelve
years and I wasn't acknowledged. Others said when I told them about
why he didn't post anything about me, that their estimation of him
had been lowered. I have just noticed now that his sister has
unfriended me on Facebook, but his brother, Ted, friended me? So I
have lost family over this. Yes I'm upset.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">He
asked how long I was going to be mad at him, and couldn't I just
remember the good times? Well this post is an effort to at least do
the latter. I am still very saddened about the former. And I expected
him to be more understanding about my anger over the former. It is
hard to find out that a friendship and a bit of life lived together
can be so disregarded. Also we had talked about him coming down to
visit when Reenie and John Gandalf were coming down to visit friends
in Alpine County (just a couple of counties to the north of Bishop).
He said I'd have to pay for him. And I'd hoped that he'd see that he
really did miss me. Alas.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">So
I'm here in Bishop trying to get employed, but so far I've not been
selected for any of the teams I've applied for. Also I'm not quite
getting the opportunities to work on land/water rights restoration
that I thought I'd be very involved in by coming back here. And I've
not had companionship either, he has had some, before Marjori's first
visit to Cigamland. One of our friends (a companion) even wanted to
get my take on Majori visiting her place, Cigamland, is her property
where he is staying.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">You
know I only saw him cry twice, once when he came back from his
brother Dan's memorial in April of 2010 and then again one night
after his mom's death in 2011.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">I
don't know when they will be completely together/married again, he
and Marjori. He talks about them having long conversations about it
and that there is the “materialism” thing that will have to be
gotten over. I guess that means that he isn't thinking of being
employed to help support her. Or will they even have a place to live
other than the one room place that Vernon is in now at Cigamland?
Strange he did get employment after I left, some but not much. Well
I'm not throwing his things over the fence and I'm hoping this will
at least explain to him how I feel.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">In
some ways I feel that I had an eight year long affair with a married
man. And it is the first time I've ever obsessed about the ending of
a relationship. I was so generous with him, financially especially. I
believe I made his life better and he did mine during the time we
were together, but as you know I feel so erased now from his life.
And I didn't expect that from him. He touts himself as being better
than that. I remember one Day of the Dead Service at the UUFC, they
had made butterflies everyone had gotten one. He fluttered his
butterfly over my head and made everyone laugh, especially those in
the choir. I still have that butterfly.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">And
I don't know what will happen with Micheal and me. I did make a
promise to be with him forever, but I'm not sure I can keep that.
Michael seems to just want me to come take care of him and that is a
tall order. Plus there are other financial things going on with the
house so I'm not sure if there will be any resources with him. But in
honor of non-erasure, he and I were together for twenty-eight years.
Strange that my marriage to and being with Russell also lasted only
eight years as did the relationship with Vernon.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: black;">Maybe
the Owens Valley is not the answer for me, Corvallis definitely isn't
for me or Michael anymore. At one point we had thought to move to
Greece after my kids graduated high school. I think that was hard on
them, especially Max. And when that dream died it was hard to know
what to replace it with. I was very despairing about that as it was
something that we'd predicated a lot of financial decisions on and
those decisions led to me needing to declare bankruptcy. And I need a
reason in my life, that was the reason then. Somehow getting involved
with Vernon helped put some reason back in my life with all the
things I got involved in with him.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;">I'm
not sure what the reason is now, but that has nothing to do with
Vernon, it has to do with how things have happened here. I know my
cousin is happy I'm here and I'm helping her with things, but I've
yet to be able to pay her rent and unemployment was denied, so I'm
only on foodstamps with getting some money from cashing out a bit
more pension and from Michael. It is tough. And it is saddening to
not have anyone to share this beautiful valley with. I am glad to
hear the crickets again, however.</span></div>
SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-51135068391614060312013-05-31T20:32:00.000-07:002013-05-31T20:33:04.005-07:00A Short Bio<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
3 kids, 3 grandkids, 2 partners. Live
at the Pi in the Sky Ranch-base of Dimple Hill, Corvallis. 3 saxes:
alto-Mick Angela, tenor-Keith Anne, soprano-Charlie Louise; drummer &
kit, chickens, Starfish kitty, & mathematician (Michael).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My favorite house (1940 Cedar) just
around the corner from Ginsberg's “Strange New Cottage in
Berkeley”, pg. 55 “Collected Works”. When signing my copy he
said, “You know how to use a book.” Because I used the table of
contents.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Painting “Oregon Wheatfield”
1933—William Skinner (my great uncle) hangs in my living room.
Maybe just painted down the hill from the Pi. A present to my
grandparents, on the back it says, “If you don't like this one
throw it away & I'll send you another.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Been playing sax since the day my
granddaughter was born. Shared beers with Donovan after Britt
Festival, Derroll Adams son was there too. DonOH gave me two hugs,
said I should choose one sax, oh well.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Did Bike4Peace 2010 with former
congresswoman Cynthia McKinney-I invited her. Hope to cycle over
Sonora Pass retracing my great grandfather's journey to Bishop after
the Gold Rush. Bike's name is Violetta, tandem is Pamela Jo. Vernon's (drummer) is Phrank. I can now cycle up my hill.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
My unpublished poetry collection
“Passionata et Materna” hasn't been eaten by computers.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
SciFi, UUism, theology, Coltrane (the
church of too), Malcolm X (young Malcolm you are gone from us way too soon), Bowie, Violet Blue, Knox Bronson, Julianne
Assange, Bradley Manning, & Roseanne rock. Corporations are NOT
persons. LADWP rehydrate Owens Lake and the Valley! </div>
SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-77756017962757547712011-11-16T22:40:00.000-08:002011-11-16T22:44:12.570-08:00OWS Reflections Sunday, October 9 After Waking from a Night's Not Sleeping<h6 style="font-family: georgia;" class="uiStreamMessage" ft="{"type":1}"><span class="messageBody" ft="{"type":3}">OWS Reflections Sunday, October 9 After Waking from a Night's Not Sleeping<br />by Yaney LA MacIver, Sweet Heart of the Valley, Pi in the Sky Ranch on Dimple Hill<br /><br />Forgive us our debts<br />as we forgive our debtors. (Repeat often as chant.)<br />This is said each week in churches around the globe.<br />Dear Wall Street we will forgive you the bailout<br />as you forgive us our loans.<br />We will all forgive any loans to anyone.<br /><br /> How can we do this safely?<br /><blockquote>Certainly we have the minds to test this locally.<br />Would the minds still maintain the inherited elite?<br />What do we do with them? Like the monarchs of Europe,<br />they could be there for ceremonial purposes?<br />What are their insights into “running” the world that would be useful for the rest of us to know?</blockquote><br /><br /> <blockquote>And certainly they know how to amass great resources to achieve great things. Those resources should now be available for the rest of us. Our governments, likewise. Perhaps they are one in the same?</blockquote><br /><blockquote><br />Could we as one Occupier from Portland on KBOO said recently, become the 100% a whole planet, a whole planet, a whole planet?</blockquote><br /><br />Forgive us our trespasses,<br />as we forgive those who trespass against us. (Repeat often as chant.)<br />The other version of what is said in churches around the world.<br /><br />Forgive us our incursions, our wars, our imperial occupations, our crimes.<br /> As we forgive you. Yours against our persons, against our countries, against our tribe, village, the color of our skin, our religion, our sexualities, our gender.<br /><br />Bring the troops home in every land, from every land.<br />Release the prisoners to home or treatment facilities.<br /><br />Dismantle the war machines.<br />Clean up the toxins of the air, the land, the water.<br />Homes for all, food for all, health care for all, free schooling.<br />Rebuild our world in cooperation with nature; cleanly and beautifully.<br /><br />Create the temples of humankind to celebrate the divine and human in every village.<br />So that people will now be able to provide for their families and communities.<br />To be able to create joy of life and celebration in art, music, dance, stories. etc.<br />To mourn at the passings and to gracefully care for their young, elderly, and infirm.<br />To give youth meaning, to assist families, to TERRAFORM the Earth.<br /><br />TERRAFORM the Earth, Occupy the planet. Occupy your home, your life.<br /><br />Revision 11/16/11</span></h6>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-48478414342019080302011-07-29T21:49:00.000-07:002011-08-01T18:40:40.788-07:00KBOO Board of Directors Candidate Statement--Yaney LA MacIverDear Fellow KBOO Members,<br /><br />I love KBOO and am asking for your vote and election to the KBOO Board of Directors. With over 35 years in community organizing, previous KBOO Board, and decades of non-profit experience: as an employee, engaged member, and valued volunteer; I will be an excellent and resourceful KBOO Board member.<br /><br />KBOO is at a crossroads now that it is over 40 years old as evidenced by the newly released Strategic Plan, requests to implement a Collective Staff Management process, concerns about board member training, and revenues that are not meeting expenses. In fact just this weekend, KBOO’s board is having a budget retreat to examine its own “debt ceiling” as is our country. Both may require us all to make some serious adjustments. Decisions made at this meeting will challenge the newly elected board; I am ready for that challenge.<br /><br />I applaud and am excited by the vision in the Strategic Plan of the KBOO as a media center, the strengthening of volunteer and staff training and development, and the focus on radio excellence.<br /><br />I am concerned with some implementation strategies. How will selling off the translator frequencies in Corvallis and Hood River assist in providing funds for an expansion of KBOO as a media center for the PDX Metro Area? (According to the Strategic Plan these decisions will be made in executive session without member input/approval!) As far as I can tell by member numbers in the translator communities these communities are more than fully funding the translators’ expenses (some members even have KBOO in their wills). In my own community, Corvallis, a 1000 people come together to raise $20,000 more than enough for our translator’s costs (a project in which I was a main organizer).<br /><br />What other assets do we/KBOO have that might be better utilized to spread KBOO’s light/voice/vision to other communities in Oregon/SW Washington, instead of being sold off—such as Pendleton—(near where a prison is located that houses many of Portland’s incarcerated). Will the owner/members of this new station, KBLU, rebroadcast Prison Pipeline for those inmates and their families? What about other KBOO content, will this new station exhibit KBOO values, etc.?<br /><br />To be fully vibrant we need a mix of terrestrial and electronic outreach. The internet is not fully assured as capitalist forces are seeking to commandeer it for their own interests.<br /><br />Hence we need a board that can compassionately and creatively address these financial, outreach, and development issues. I believe that my experience in all aspects of nonprofits (including as a nonprofit employee) will enable me to be strong and understanding leader for KBOO. So I ask all my friends in the Peace and Justice communities (Portland/Regionally), those in TranslatorLand, and all lovers of KBOO to vote for me—and then <a href="http://kboo.fm/membershipform">please click the tip jar</a>—tell them I sent you!<br /><br />Thanks and love,<br /><br />The SweetheartoftheValley (@gmail.com/facebook, trysaxy_all—Twitter, piintheskyranch.blogspot.com) 541-829-9788—Pi in the Sky Ranch, on Dimple Hill in Corvallis—7/29/11<br /><br />Yaney LA MacIverSweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-54898546432339167352010-08-24T08:34:00.000-07:002010-08-24T09:04:30.086-07:00Toto I Don't Think We're in Colorado Anymore<span style="font-weight: bold;">Sunday, 8/22</span>, <span style="font-weight: bold;">Haswell, CO</span><br /><br />Well the grasshoppers are quieting down as I wait for the cyclists. They are just out of town. No cell service, no internet—but a fully charged laptop—hence a few minutes. They are cycling from just down the road apiece. Annie will be first. The others are basically together. A call was made from Vernon when they were in Sugar City saying there were no services. This we, Cynthia and I, took to mean that they had no food or water and that we had to hurry to get them sustenance.<br /><br />So there was concern, but the concern was mitigated or suspended because we had to get Cynthia to the airport to go home as her house had been burgled the night before. What exactly had been taken we didn’t know, but seems her new laptop, hard drive (with her book on it), a big screen TV, and a CD player from her son’s room, but not the peripherals to some of those things such as new and expensive cables, likewise speakers. It will remain to be seen what exactly is gone, seems some lights in the house weren’t working either, but they may be just non-working bulbs.<br /><br />Anyway two of the cyclists have arrived and we are talking about the Obama and the CIA. And they are talking about the merry-go-round at the Haswell City Park. Now they are all here and talking about heading on to Eads for the night; perhaps the Travelers Lodge, maybe the city park.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br />Tuesday, 8/24</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">, Leoti, KS</span><br /><br />Well more time to catch up. We crossed into Kansas yesterday and into Central Time. This past evening we spent at the High Plains Motel in Leoti, KS; a nice place with a full complimentary breakfast. I got up with the cyclists to have breakfast and to make sure I didn’t sleep in as I had yesterday to the “late” hour of 9:00 AM! By the time I finally left Eads, CO Scott and Annie had made it to Tribune, KS and they also beat me to the hotel in Leoti, but that was just a block and bikes are faster than cars in town.<br /><br />Vernon and I went to the Mexican restaurant in town (Charlie's Mexican Restaurant). I had gorditias with homemade gordo tortillas. They were wonderful. The excitement happened when a lad leaned his chair back into the lattice screen sending it into our table, twice. No Tecate was spilled in the process, but a few bits of dried plant material ended up on Vernon’s beard.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Riding</span><br /><br />I have gotten some chances to ride. I rode the first bit to Monarch Pass from Gunnison, CO (a town with another Toggery—like my home town Bishop, CA) on Wednesday, August 18th as we thought we were just going to Sargents, CO that day. It was a very nice ride and wonderful to be cycling with Vernon again. We originally thought we'd "take" Monarch Pass the next day, but with the weather so nice it was decided to go for it. So the cyclists headed up and out. And Cynthia and I continued in the vehicle to Poncha Springs were we booked in at the Rocky Mountain Lodge. After unpacking the car, settling things into the room, and getting a few celebratory six packs of microbrews and a bottle of wine; I got back on my bike to meet the riders. Well they were just about around the corner at Mimi’s an Eastern and Western Food and Ice Cream Stand at the corner of US 285 and US 50. Vernon bought me a green tea ice cream cone. Yummy and we rode back to the hotel.<br /><br />Vernon and I had a nice cabin with a kitchen. It was so wonderful to have a space to ourselves (other than the tent) and a real kitchen. I think the latter is what I miss most about home. As to the former; we try to keep expenses low for all so many times we’re in a room with all six of us (or five as it is now). Many times tho the hotel/motel owners/managers will not let us be in a room with more than five due to fire regulations. And when Vernon sets up the tent, he always sets it up facing east. Hence the sun does get me up early, not only with its bright light, but with its heat. And he does this even on rest days, as he did while we were “resting” at Celeste’s in Pueblo.<br /><br />And I rode part of the way to Pueblo, from Westcliffe to Wetmore. In Westcliffe we stayed at the Grape Creek RV Camp in two cabins (missed making a real dinner that night as the thunderstorms started in just as I was about to cook). It was wonderful to go to the Visitor’s Center/Chamber of Commerce in Westcliffe and have the woman working there assist us in finding a place to stay. They regularly keep track of what is available and she even called around for us. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case in Gunnison, where I had to make all the calls and I wasn’t even afforded a place to sit down to make them! Such service faux pas are particularly frustrating to me as that is my profession. And they lost the sale of an apron there at that Visitor's Center in Gunnison. Alas.<br /><br />The ride from Westcliffe to Wetmore was wonderful—the uphill part that is. The downhill was a bit scary; many twists and turns (nothing like downhills on highway 34 from Alsea, OR or on Carson Pass—those I like). At one point I felt like I was going to slide out. And I took seriously the slow downs of 30 and 35 mph on some of the curves. Now Vernon kept insisting I get off my brakes, oh well honey, I didn’t. He’s been riding longer and knows his bike more. Sorry if you were burning your brakes out following me—there’s a spare set in my now non-handlebar bag along with the clothespins and the line.<br /><br />We had arranged to meet Celeste at the City Park in Pueblo, Yeyo and I found our way there (Yeyo being sick that day had decided to join Cynthia and me in the car). I went too fast over a speed bump and dislodged the bike rack—the bikes were fine and Scott readjusted the rack, but I was a bit nervous about putting anymore weight on the rack so I left my bike chained up to the fence at the entrance of the park before I went to get Cynthia and Vernon. Yeyo rode on to a Mexican restaurant at the corner of Pueblo and Thatcher where we decided the new meeting place would be. When I got to Cynthia and Vernon, Bob Kinsey (running for Senate for the Greens) had caught up with them. He’d come from Colorado Springs.<br /><br />In Pueblo, we were hosted at a potluck by the Colorado Greens at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Pueblo. We got press from the local paper (<a href="http://www.chieftain.com/news/local/article_a68e4cc8-adb3-11df-88be-001cc4c002e0.html"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span class="blox-headline entry-title">Ex-lawmaker takes on new venture</span></span></a>). Both Bob and Gary Swing (running for Colorado District One’s Congressional seat—also on the Green ticket) were at the potluck. Gary’s line is to solicit the “swing” voters. I love it—who says Greens don’t have a sense of humor! I also had fun, perusing the UU and gathering their information to take back to the “office”. I did get a chance to ride in Pueblo. Vernon, Annie, Scott, and I rode from the Mexican restaurant to Celeste’s house after retrieving my bike. And from Celeste’s Yeyo, Vernon, and I rode back and forth to the potluck. Each time we got lost in different way—but we ended up where we were going by following the canal.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Continuing Thoughts<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><br /><br />Each of these towns that we pass through, seem to be facing challenges of staying afloat. Many boarded up buildings, some towns with only one restaurant or hotel where there had been many. I still see the similarities between the shuttering of rural America and the shuttering of places like in Oakland in the downtown and along San Pablo Ave. What will come to all these places? What will come to your town? What will we all do about it together?SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-34973090802978365722010-08-04T11:10:00.000-07:002010-08-04T11:50:34.160-07:00Bike4Peace 2010 Yaney's First Blog PostTuesday, August 03, 2010<br /><br />We are in Baker, NV now at this wonderful hotel and restaurant, the Silver Jack Inn and Lectrolux Café. It is a cross between Nepenthe at Big Sur, the Thyme Garden in Alsea, OR and Summit, OR. There are sunflowers everywhere, art, wall hangings, swallows nesting babies mouths wide open right above our door, a mannequin’s leg wearing a hat. A walk up the street and there is a cob wall with a small display of prayer flags over the gate into the backyard of the house. It is nighttime and now the kids working for the Nevada Conservation Corps are out using the wi-fi at the café. I’m just trying to get a chance to write about our adventures at least once.<br /><br />Bike4Peace 2010 has been a long strange road. We started out in Oakland at the Black Dot Café with a potluck arranged by the Rev. Sandra Decker. We waited a while for Cynthia to arrive. Most of us had never met. Annie and Scott didn’t show up until the ride start the next day at 7:00 AM in front of the House of Common Sense. <br /><br />As Vernon and Ron had done the first leg of the trip backwards from Martinez to Oakland*, they decided it was not a good route to start the ride on. So we decided to take the Amtrak bike commuter train to Martinez where we were going to meet up with the Valley Spokesmen from the Livermore area. This would cut a good twenty miles of riding off the first day of what purported to be 100+ miles. It still wasn’t enough to take off as we were to come to know. The ride out of Martinez was nice. But Cynthia and I had a tough time keeping up. It was hot and very hilly. Cynthia who had ridden less than me particularly had a hard time keeping up. So as the day progressed we all got further behind. And there were at least three flat tires. I had one, Vernon two. Finally our friends from the Spokesmen, Peter and John, decided to call in the rescue troops at about 6:00 PM. John’s wife and friend Dave took some of us, bikes, bags and all to a meal in Winters; while Ron, Peter and Vernon continued on to Davis, where they were similarly rescued. They got into our hosts house in Sacramento about midnight—yikes—six hours behind schedule.<br /><br />*Vernon had started out the trip from Corvallis on Saturday, July 10. I rode with him the 88 miles to Florence, OR—only had trouble with chafing—we made it in about twelve hours. We stopped at Alpha Bits in Mapleton, OR for lunch. It is a restaurant run by the Alpha Farm folks in Deadwood. He then headed down the over the mountains in California, too much climbing in the heat. Vernon had texted me about passing out under an overpass in 106 degrees in the shade. He met Ron in Chico on the 21st and they rode together to Oakland and that was a tough ride too. So by the time he got to Oakland, he was gaunt and shaky. It was almost like coming home from boot camp!<br /><br />But back to Bike4Peace 2010 a late start in the morning from Sacramento, confusion over what was going to be needed at the REI for the cyclists and for Yeyo’s bike, etc. contributed to another late afternoon too hot to ride situation. But riding on the American River trail with no cars from Sacramento to Folsom was wonderful. We were supposed to be in Placerville for a potluck lunch at noon. Cynthia sat down too tired to move at Folsom Prison. We all finally met up at a water store at the intersection we were supposed to take for Placerville. Our hosts in Placerville took many of us, again bikes, bags, and all to the new venue for the potluck, which had been moved to 6:00 PM. Two cyclists, Annie and Scott got there about 4:00 PM, while Vernon and Peter got a wee bit lost and didn’t arrive until 6:00 PM. But in the meantime, Cynthia, my friend Lucy, her friends, and I had a nice nearly woman only time. A rare treat for me!<br /><br />We were slated to stay in Fairplay that night at Fitzpatrick’s Winery and B&B. Vernon thought we’d have to stay in Placerville, but our host Rick said, “Oh no you’re not.” He’d long ago made the arrangements for us to stay there that night, and Diana (the proprietor had saved us two rooms (one for the lasses and one for the lads). So we got transported to this wonderful place in the world. If you are ever in Fairplay, CA do stay at Brian and Diana’s B&B and don’t forget to have a taste of the ports. My favourite was the Zinfandel Port. (End post for the night due to low battery)<br /><br />(Continue post morning Wednesday, August 04, 2010, Milford, UT)<br /><br />Next day we started out with oatmeal and coffee, prepared by Diana at the early hour of 6:30 AM, but late for the start of a ride. This has been and is one of my favourite rides; the ride from Fairplay, via Omo Ranch Road to Highway 50 at Cook’s Station. It was a beautiful, windy road, much like riding up my hill, only more. And since I was in the middle of pack between the strong riders: Annie, Peter, Scott, and Yeyo and Vernon and Cynthia, I had the whole road to myself with nary a car. It was different not to have Vernon at my back suggesting ways to improve my cycling. I sure appreciated the rides up my hill in that I was able to do this ride, without walking and I learned how to breathe and seemed to have my gearing in synch with the climbs. But I was sure glad to see Scott at the intersection with Highway 50 and we both had a huge lunch at Cook’s Station. This would prove for me to be a mistake as I had no energy to continue the climb to the campground at Silver Lake. <br /><br />In the meantime, Marie, who’d been at the potluck in Placerville and had arranged hosting for us on the fourth night in Woodfords, CA offered to assist us in sagging should we need it. Sagging is taking gear, offering rides, water, food, etc. to cyclists on the road. And did Cynthia and I need it. We caught up with each other at Hams Station—a place to avoid—at least with the present owner, as he said his kitchen was closed and that perhaps Cynthia might want to find a Lenny’s (next door to Denny’s). Sigh. If they ever get a new owner, perhaps you might try again, but the place is very run down and the restroom door doesn’t even close. <br /><br />We had originally thought to stay in Kirkwood and have a rest day there, but because of Marie’s local knowledge we stayed at the Silver Lake Campground, just a bit further from the Carson Pass summit, but not much and it was downhill to Kirkwood (mostly) from Silver Lake. <br /><br />The climb in the morning from the campground to Carson Pass was wonderful. I made it all the way, and not too far behind the strong cyclists. Vernon and I stopped a few times; always in the shade, and only once not at the top of the hill. And the ride down the pass—phenomenal! Not over 35 MPH, the wind being a gentle brake on the downhill speed. The wind in my ears made it a bit difficult to hear the cars, but only once was that a problem as I had one car and two motorcyclists behind me. The woman on the motorcycle behind the guy told me to “get off the road.” Alas. I never felt in any danger. <br /><br />Finally we arrived at a nice turn out and rested from the downhill and headed off to Diana’s (a different Diana) Starlight Lodge. One more climb to go and I got chain suck, within about a quarter mile or less of the turn off to her road. Only then did I walk the bike for a bit. This climb I referred to as “taking granny out for a spin.” I was soooooo slow. When we arrived at the Starlight Lodge I immediately took off my shoes and riding slacks (the latter to prevent sunburn). It was gorgeous, a log cabin mansion. Diana wasn’t yet there but the main house was unlocked, so we went in. She arrived soon after and apportioned rooms, asking if there were any couples. I immediately went and wound my arms around Vernon. We took the room with the huge bed, almost taller than me and Annie took the blue room across the hall. Cynthia was given a room downstairs and Scott and Yeyo went to the cabin—a large domicile in it’s own right. Peter had turned around at the Carson Pass summit to return home. So that left the six of us core riders finally just on our own for a bit (well once Cynthia got there, she and Marie were hanging out—oh and let me mention that Marie does the most gorgeous tie dye!) If you are ever in Markleeville, find her and get some! Her name is Marie Bravo.<br /><br />Settling in to showers, doing laundry and having a spot of lunch were the first business at hand. Later would be assessing the route, discussing our difficulties of the past few days, and really having our first meeting of the group around the large dinning room table. Thoughts of tandems for Cynthia and Yeyo and Vernon and me were discussed. Ideas of train rides part of the way through the tough parts were also floated. But what it came down to was that most felt better about renting a car for carrying panniers, and for those needing to be transported to the day’s end locations. That was arranged for Carson City the next day after many phone calls back and forth between Annie and Scott and the rental agencies. And we got a very welcome chance to catch up on email and to see about further hosting opportunities, etc. And at last a chance to rest almost a full day, as we arrived sometime early afternoon or late morning.<br /><br />Diana had asked some people over for dinner that night, it was her 59th birthday. Dinner was delicious, roasted rosemary potatoes, hummus and more that I can’t remember at the moment. The next morning Diana got up early at 5:00 AM to make us breakfast: scrambled eggs, pancakes with nuts and flax, coffee, etc. yum and the strong riders and Vernon (also a strong rider but the one who stays in back to make sure we are all okay) left for Carson City to meet Cynthia and I at the car rental place later in the day. Vernon road fully loaded to Carson City from the Starlight Lodge. <br /><br />I was soooo sad to rent the car, partly because I was sleep deprived from the last week’s activities (and I haven't even mentioned the Jack London Inn, the Berkeley remembrance trip or the potluck at the Black Dot, well not much). I felt so bad for Vernon that the brave adventure needed help, that I wasn’t in the shape I needed to be, that we were going to use a vehicle, it all just came crashing down. I’ve acclimated to it some now as I sit writing this in an air-conditioned motel room at the Affordable Motel in Milford, UT but it is still difficult and I know I want to ride more. Cynthia and I are taking over the role of sagging the others. I think soon I will be riding with them in the morning and maybe be sagged myself if need be. I miss riding with Vernon at my back (in spite of what I said earlier in the Omo Road remembrance) and he is quite exhausted when he gets in. But in the meantime I’m securing hosting and lodging so I am more valuable that way.<br /><br />Anyway, rental car in hand, gear loaded from Diana’s car to the rental, goodbyes to Diana, the last Trader Joes shopping until when, forays into Walmart (sorry) and the bike shop in Carson City, a trunk bike rack purchased (for three bikes); the cyclists headed off to Silver Springs for a campsite at the Lahotan Reservoir and Cynthia and I loaded into the car to meet up with them (they got there first and had pizza ordered for us by the time we arrived). We all headed east, thus ending the Bike4Peace 2010 bed and breakfast leg of the tour. Next stop after Silver Springs was Middlegate, NV for a stay and rest day at the Middlegate Station, an American experience not to be missed, thus beginning the night ride/hotel leg of the Bike4Peace 2010 tour.<br /><br />Now Middlegate Station is something you must experience if you are ever on the road from Carson City to points east on Highway 50 (the “Loneliest Highway in America”) past Fallon do check it out and see if you can find the Bike4Peace 2010 dollar bill near the grill. Middlegate Station is a hotel, bar/restaurant, and camping area. They boast the monster burger, which if you eat it all you are awarded a t-shirt saying that you did so. It is sort of like AlphaBits and the AlphaFarm but a redneck/country western version of a commune. Those who live there run the facility but refuse to call it work. The motel is made up of old man camp trailers that look sort of like railroad cars and aren’t much wider. Each room has its own distinctive rundownness. Walls in the rooms are merely paneling on studs but there is enough soundproofing between rooms, mainly due to the constant running of the air-conditioners/swamp coolers. Vernon’s and my room had the only coffee maker. Cynthia’s and Annie’s room had the best real AC. Of course I must add here that if you are ever in Fairplay, CA please stay at Fitzpatrick’s and do tell them we sent you. They hosted us for free as did Diana at the Starlight Lodge. So do patronize them if you can. Middlegate tho is affordable.<br /><br />However before Middlegate, Cynthia and I visited John in Fallon. He was referred to us by an ex-wife from the Seattle area. He loaded us with farm fresh eggs, potatoes, onions and garlic (probably enough of the latter for the whole trip).<br /><br />So with Middlegate began the night riding; Vernon rising at midnight with the others rising in time to push off for 1:00 AM. Cynthia and I sleeping in until 3:00 AM (or later as the night rides progressed). I think I will feel like I’ve gotten sleeping in time when day riding starts again (perhaps tomorrow) with a later wake up time of maybe 4:00 AM or 5:00! Many times the riders got to the destination before us, but not today as it was nearly and 80 mile ride.<br /><br />We stayed in Austin, Eureka, and Ely Nevada; each town with its particular charm and sadness. Many buildings boarded up, out of business, etc.; much like the buildings in Oakland on San Pablo Ave. and downtown; each town a remembrance of vibrancy long gone. Austin a small town about three blocks long has no grocery store. I wonder if it ever did, in talking with my parents they say my cousins Ted and Bev lived there and had their children there. I’ll have to ask them. Now the only groceries are in the service station convenience stores. They do have a very nice restaurant across from the Lincoln Motel. I think it is called the International.<br /><br />In Eureka we stayed at the Sundown Lodge, conveniently located across the street from the grocery store and the Owl Club (a chain casino). We cooked over the camp stove that we bought in Carson City, eggs in the morning and macaroni and cheese for dinner. In between times folks made sandwiches, many for their night rides. Reminds me we need a shopping trip today. We stayed all in one room, except for Paul who had hooked up with us at Middlegate. He may be going his own way tomorrow as we approach Cedar City for a rest day and a change from night riding. <br /><br />In Ely we stayed at the Hotel Nevada and Gambling Hall, a place frequented by the stars back in the heyday of Hollywood. Vernon and I were in the Gary Cooper room. The others stayed in a suite with a room full of single beds (two a bunk) and another room with a double bed. We ate $5.00 breakfasts all day long, met a waitress who knew the scoop on the state of our country (even without internet). Of course now instead of a well appointed lobby with opportunities for musicians there are only slot machines. Sad…….<br /><br />And last night we stayed at the Silver Jack Inn in Baker (as mentioned before); my last time in my home country of CA/NV. It was a soft night, lightning in the distance, Milky Way visible, crickets, breezes and only one car in the time I stayed out looking at the sky hoping for a glimpse of an aurora. They, Baker and the Great Basin in Nevada are facing their own water wars, reminiscent of the Owens Valley and LA. Las Vegas wants their water. Cynthia says that Las Vegas will run out of water in 2012. A pipeline is being built, ranchers are selling. The property of the Silver Jack, the block it is on, and the block across the street are for sale by the owner of the Silver Jack (a San Francisco artist/investor). As I was watching the sky last night I heard a stream gurgling and I was saddened. Baker felt like a mini version of Bishop, CA my home town. <br /><br />And in entering Utah, I truly felt like I was leaving home. <br /><br />Today our sag vehicle helped a group of folks crossing the continent on horse back. And for now I must blog off as I’m hungry and haven’t really eaten since yesterday. Plus I have administrative duties to attend to. I need to find out about hosting in Cedar City, some has been offered, but is still not secure. And I should probably secure our camping through Utah, except for Caineville where there appears to only be a Rodeway Inn. I’m still not sure there is any camping at Hite’s Crossing. And then there is following up on leads in Colorado. Plus it’s time to give the computer over to someone else.<br /><br />YaneySweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-34391762224990688472010-02-14T21:02:00.000-08:002010-03-16T00:45:23.908-07:00<h4>Background</h4><p class="MsoNormal">Ah no real blogging for over a year. And what a time it has been. So where do we start? </p><p class="MsoNormal">In the summer of 2008 it being my 25th year after moving from Berkeley to Corvallis, I decided to come to terms with what I still feel was a forced move from somewhere I really loved. So I went back to say farewell or investigate whether I wanted to move back and how? It was quite a pleasant journey on the train; it even basically got there in time (which it doesn’t always due to that the freight trains get priority—wish there would be some legislation to require coordination). It was a most pleasant visit. I stayed at a couple of friend’s houses in Richmond. One friend’s house was just two blocks away from where I first lived in the Bay Area as a little girl when my dad was getting his Masters at UC Berkeley. This is the house where I swear I flew, where Mr. Martinucci lived and grew the most amazing carnations, and where the train went by every day and I’d say, “muckatboose” most likely meaning, “Look at the caboose.” Now the BART goes on those tracks across the street in a gorgeous curve and there’s a sweet park and bike lane. </p><p class="MsoNormal">My friends from Berkeley landfill days treated me to a good couple of lunches, Dan Knapp of Urban Ore even had a huge feast of Mexican food for all of the workers to fete me and we reminisced about the great view of the Golden Gate Bridge from the landfill and the politics and the personal of what happened between all the players. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I enjoyed taking my soprano sax, Charlie Louise, out to the now <a href="http://www.ci.berkeley.ca.us/ContentDisplay.aspx?id=12102">Cesar Chavez Park</a> that I helped create as a Berkeley Landfill worker. I sure enjoy seeing my friend, <a href="http://knoxbronson.com/">Knox</a> posting pictures of his loved ones playing at and visiting the park. And it was great to realize that even in some small way I helped create Urban Ore. And that sometimes it’s the small things we do that are just the right stitch to put in the fabric of the greater life on this planet. I still don’t think I’ve completely come to terms with my loss of Berkeley, but I have come to terms more with Corvallis. I still pine for 1940 Cedar or a house that more reflects me than the Pi in the Sky Ranch—but for the time being it is what it is.</p><br /><h4>Foreground</h4><p class="MsoNormal">So what has happened in my life since the <a href="http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/2008/02/agony-aunt-letter.html">Agony Letter</a>? A lot has happened and not much to agonize over any more, even though there many struggles. You’ve seen a few pictures but not much discussion.<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I got employed at a wonderful place in March of 2008. The Unitarian Universalists in town agreed to hire me as their Office Administrator—I love the job. The Fellowship is only two and a half miles from my house, the closest place in town for me to be employed. This has become much more important that I would have thought when I took the job. Even though part of the reason I was excited about the job was because I could walk to work. The worst day there is still better than my best day anywhere else. And I can maybe count a handful of difficult days and a couple of <b>long</b> weeks—none bad, just challenging. Mainly it’s electric driven technology (computers, copy machines, and the danged internet connection that usually has to be reset at least once a week, taking at least 45 minutes in the process—that elicit pouts and frowns). And even after being there almost two years I’m still finding out parts of my job that my two hour training didn’t quite encompass. I am looking forward to documenting the job so that the next person or even I will know what, when, and how things are done. And it’s a gorgeous view out my window of a very sweet neighborhood, trees, and flowers.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">As some know, Michael had been having a lot of hip pain (since June of 2005), we finally found out that he needed hip replacement surgery; he had that in April of 2008. But in the meantime things were quite stressful as was mentioned in the <a href="http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/2008/02/agony-aunt-letter.html">Agony Letter</a>. He was not a happy camper and it was a huge strain on our relationship. Thank All The Deities (TATD) that it’s over now. He is finally getting back to his old hoppy self and is even starting to head out on hikes on the weekends. Of course along the way he had pneumonia, and a heart attack, pneumonia in June and the attack in October of that year--Ugh what a hard year. Killed a few plants by neglect, (the latter can happen all so quickly, a couple of weeks of neglect and the poor green things are gone) all the chickens got predated, and the housework basically fell apart. Of course there are places in this house that haven’t been touched in 30 years, we’re working on that but it’s still too slow a process for this Virgo lass—ah alas.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">I have to say that my stint at Oregon PeaceWorks (OPW), from January 2003 to May 2005, had a great impact on my life and health. I met many wonderful people throughout the Northwest and have gained an appreciation of many communities and their own particular styles. Which actually gave me a greater appreciation for Corvallis and definitely for driving and walking and being downtown in Corvallis as opposed to Salem. </p><p class="MsoNormal">But the two hours of daily driving in my ’79 VW van, Doppio, over the course of two and a half years basically left my right elbow in constant pain, which has still not quite subsided. It’s better, at least I can tuck in a sheet and I’m down to three ibuprofens in the evening, instead of all day long. And the constant meetings and struggles of the way those kinds of meetings go, left me with a need to back away from most things “political”. It was kind of a mini PTSD, I felt that I just wanted to yell “shut up” in the meetings—so I put myself on a good long time out. For which I broke that fast a bit in November of 2007 see <b><a href="http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/2007/11/more-of-healing-heart.html">More of the Healing Heart</a>.<o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal">In this blog I talk about meeting Cynthia McKinney, we in Corvallis did finally get a brief meeting with Cynthia a couple of days later on her way back up to Portland. I sat across the table from her at The Sunnyside Café where she looked us/me in the eye and said, “Tell then the good news.” The good news that there is/was an alternative to vote for other than the two-party duopoly, that there <b>is</b> a message of hope, and that there are people who really care about us/the planet, and more. Sadly we see that one party really exCHANGEs nothing. We still have Gitmo, we are still in Iraq and Afghanistan and now since the election we are bombing Pakistan, the banks have been bailed out and not held accountable; payday loan sharks are resurfacing with 79.9% interest/$500 dollar limit “credit cards”, there is no <b>real</b> healthcare proposal, and the Supreme Court just last month (January 2010) gave corporations full personhood with their ruling on campaign finance restrictions—welcome back to feudalism and let’s not even talk about foreclosures and the credit mess in which most of us find ourselves experiencing. No it didn’t get better fast enough and no I won’t be able to repay it—that’s my next challenge. But I’m not getting too all freaked out about it, even though once in awhile I have a huge pout day or weekend and lose a few winks of sleep.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway after that meeting, Cynthia and I exchanged chats on the Gmail and she even read the aforementioned blog and perhaps the earlier one<a name="2530181190500082209"></a> <a href="http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/2007/10/weekend-serenade-for-broken-heart-and.html">Weekend Serenade for a Broken Heart and Celebration of Such</a>, where I discuss the hugest broken heart I ever had. Off and on I’ve continued to send her brief messages when I noticed she was on line. And I was deeply happy to see her pop back up on-line after being released from Israeli jail on July 7, 2009 after her mission to Gaza. For more about the mission and the imprisonment see this <a href="http://www.freegaza.org/en/home/56-news/986-letter-from-an-israeli-jail-by-cynthia-mckinney">article</a> for the rest if you are interested please Google it.<o:p></o:p></p><h4>Circularity—Just Keeps Spinning Into My Life</h4><p class="MsoNormal">So dear reader, I find that life is very circular many times. My cousin, Marla, is the one who really got me into this. When my dear Uncle Bill died and I was coming to stay at her house for the memorial service in late September of 2007, she said that they had wireless and I could bring my computer. Well, I didn’t have computer that had that functionality, I had no laptop. But before the trip I managed to acquire one off of Craigslist. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Then my temp job at OSU’s Student Involvement ended and since I had the technology and wanted to keep up with friends that I’d met there so I started a MySpace and FaceBook page. I’d been blogging before but hadn’t ventured out to being much more of a social networking butterfly than that. MySpace was the first that I really used. Meeting other folks who loved sax, jazz, Donovan, etc.; keeping up with some family, favorite bands, and others who just happened to be interesting. I even developed a crush on a MySpace friend. And when that crush asked his MySpace friends to follow him on Twitter, I did. </p><p class="MsoNormal">And through the Twitter circles, of <a href="http://www.jimpage.net/">Jim Page</a>, I found <a href="http://vernonhuffman.blogspot.com/">Vernon</a> in August of 2008. See I’d already met him earlier that year in February with Michele during a planning meeting for a CodePink event, but thought he was a bike “fascist” (now I say zealot) and I told him that I’d like to see him “ride up my hill.” What a line! </p><p class="MsoNormal">I mean it wasn’t the first time some single white male had given me a raft about having/owning/driving a car. Andrew Geller was elated when my previous VW Van, Brekex, burnt down in a bizarre fire. It’s just that my experience biking had not always been that pleasant or voluntary. One year when Russell and I were particularly poor, here in Corvallis, I had nothing but a bike and I rode it with three kids on it and a basket for laundry or groceries. I was a strange sight to see indeed; one child, Zeke, on a handlebar child seat (between the handlebars and the saddle), Harvest on the back child seat over the back wheel, and Max strapped to me in a Snuggly baby carrier on my front, with the carrying basket for groceries or laundry in front of the handlebars over the front wheel. I mean I thought of doing a magazine called <i>Peasant Woman Monthly</i>. So let’s say, when we finally got and could afford a car I was quite happy. Maybe if we’d had the money to have those fancy bike trailers, the experience might have been different. And let me mention this was a green three speed—maybe a Raleigh, I don’t recall. After that expeirence I just wanted to put all that poverty behind me.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, when I “met” Vernon again on Twitter on August 21, 2008, he was, “<span class="entry-content">Looking for a home for my rather large drum set.”My ears perked up and I thought maybe he has some soul, etc. Plus he was part of the tribe/family and new in town. One had to be gracious. So I invited him to come up and see if my basement living room would work. It took a while as our schedules continued to not mesh but on </span>September 30, 2008 he finally rode up to the house to scope out the basement. He did some clapping and decided the acoustics were good enough. I’d been lying on the ottoman upstairs as I’d come down with a particularly bad backache. So after the acoustic test and a bit of discussion on the couch downstairs we went in my Sewing Sanctuary to look up something on the web, I really don’t recall what. And that’s when he started to rub the spot between my wings that had been so disabling. It felt to me like the deities had all decided to visit at once. They were all saying, “Hello, I’m here.” And being one who has read a lot about hosting strangers/deities, I decided there might be something here.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Oh but before that, since I knew he was a drummer, I invited him to come check out our little summer jazz band that was meeting in the Central Park Gazebo. He was late to this meeting as he was helping Michele and Reese out with their car that had gotten somehow stuck in Lebanon, OR. But he did carry my soprano case back to my car and we had a bit of chat about things. Come to find out he had been the next door neighbor to Derek Parrott (my heartbreaker mentioned above) in Langley on Whidbey Island. He was also friends with our (Derek and my) mutual friend <a href="http://timothy-hull.blogspot.com/">Timothy Hull</a>. (TimOH). </p><p class="MsoNormal">See the Langley connection is extremely important. When I went to Derek’s Aloha party (aloha to Langley for Kauai) in June of 2006, I noticed that many of the men in the room were hitting on me, and I made connections with others that I think are still there. I’d had this revelation that I’d fished out all the eligible lads in Corvallis and it was time to try a new village, and I think the lads who were being friendly at that party had also come to the same conclusion about Langley. So here was this lad who had also come from this village and we were meeting in mine. Plus, I <b>could</b> ask those mutual friends about him, and I did!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, prior to the backrub, I was very leery about Mr. Huffman, but when he was message number 555 on my Gmail at the same time I was number 888 on <a href="http://www.myspace.com/flapping">Knox’s Flapping Myspace</a> and we were Tweeting at the time, I mentioned it. That’s when Vernon let me know about his interest in five against eight time. I have always been a fan of the number five, being born in 1955 (as were Vernon and Cynthia McKinney). So it was a very nice karma to step into. Anyway, that was just a week shy of us “getting together”. I’d been emailing and Gmail chatting with him for a week and when he said that he was “eager for physical affection” what a way to phrase it! I mean woo me with words and some correctly placed commas (I’ve learned more about that particular punctuation from reading Vernon’s words than all my English teachers and Peter Bergel , PeaceWorker editor and my former boss at OPW, combined).<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So after a certain amount of electronic exchange where I told him to go slow (adagio), I said to myself, “Yaney, he’s not in Oakland, and he’s not in Portland, he’s only ten minutes away. What’s your problem?” So after telling him to go slow, just minutes after, I went to his place, Veggie House, and decided to really check him out. But by no means was anything settled. Would I “get together” with him or wouldn’t I? It was an explore. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So I showed up at the Veggie House door, and Vernon answered it. He gave me a tour of the house, an old sorority house. And we ended up at a calendar in the kitchen, which had a picture of some peasants in Honduras who had put rocks in the road to block a water pipeline from being constructed. I mentioned that the terrain looked a lot like where I was born, Bishop, CA, he said it looked a lot like his hometown of Big Timber, MT. Then he went on to ask about California, I showed him where Bishop was on the map in the dining room of Veggie House, and he mentioned that his parents had been in California during WWII as pilots and he asked where Victorville was? Victorville!? The town I had lived in from kindergarten through high school. He had connections there?! Well that just settled it—it was enough circularity, more than enough. I decided we should “be together” and we went up to his room. And me droogies, it was like coming home.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Of course, after that night I did finally ask TimOH and Derek what they thought about him. I’d previously asked a friend, Margi, what she thought about him. Her reaction was negative, Derek’s and TimOH’s weren’t. Sometimes you ask friends because you know if they don’t like something, you will. My experience in the last near year and a half has borne this out.<o:p></o:p></p><h4>But What Does This Have To Do With The Bike Ride?<o:p></o:p></h4><p class="MsoNormal">Well I have to admit that I never would have thought about bicycling across country until Michele did. And my immediate thought when she told me she was, was “Dang Michele if you do this, I’m going to have to some time!” Here’s my posting about her and Vernon’s ride across the country: <a name="6214826929474516906"></a><b><a href="http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/2007/06/more-on-peace.html">More on Peace</a>. </b>I was quite unpleased that she took off. First of all, it was a hard re-introduction to Corvallis after OPW. I was thrilled to have someone who had been a friend of mine during that time in Salem in Corvallis. She’d just had her twins and my granddaughter, Jazmyn, was still in town and I thought it’d be cool for all of us to hang out. But that was not to be.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Michele left with the twins on this strange bike ride. Ouch. And I really didn’t know much about it. I was so upset that I refused to attend the kick-off ceremonies or any fundraisers associated with it. So I never met Vernon then. And I admit that after they got back I thought <b>he </b>was the one who stole her away. Well in reality, she just asked him for advice and his advice was to take him with her. So I guess it was Michele or both of them in collusion.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Well they went on the bike ride and finally Michele was back! But in the process Vernon had fallen in love with her and thought that he was welcome to live with her, etc. Well those plans didn’t quite transpire as Michele had met Reese in the meantime. So Vernon arrived in Corvallis, had his heart broken, was homeless for a bit, and finally ended up at Veggie House with that rather large drum set. And it is an impressive one; six tom toms, two base drums, timbales, etc., and more cowbell. And it’s in my basement, nicely accessorized with him as drummer as he moved into Michael's and my house on New Year’s of 2009. Now I live with two men—yikes!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">So back to the bike ride <a href="http://b4p.bbnow.org/">Bike4Peace 2010</a>. As you already know I’d been Gmail chatting with Cynthia McKinney off and on, and when I realized that I <b>was</b> going to go on the next cross country bike ride with Vernon (it will be his third, my first). I invited Cynthia and she said yes! We all will be turning 55 in 2010, Cynthia on March 17, me on 9/11, Vernon on Christmas Eve. I don’t know what all that has to do with it. But part of what I love about being with Vernon is that he <b>is</b> my age, but more than that, is that I feel the high country in him and I am certainly interested in exploring that high country—Carson and Monarch Passes. We will all be pushing more physical boundaries than we really know, and we will succeed. We intend to engage those we meet in discussion about how to save the planet and ourselves, how to reclaim our government, how to arrive at healthcare for all, and how to transition out of the oil economy. Plus now we might be engaging in discussions about the corporate control of our lives and government. Please join us on the road, in spirit, or in <a href="http://b4p.bbnow.org/donate.php">contribution</a> to support the ride and riders.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal" class="MsoNormal"><b>Yours,<o:p></o:p></b></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><b>Yaney LA MacIver<o:p></o:p></b></p><p style="LINE-HEIGHT: normal; MARGIN-BOTTOM: 0pt" class="MsoNormal"><b>SweetheartoftheValley, Pi in the Sky Ranch, Dimple Hill, Corvallis, Oregon Sunday, February 14, 2010—Happy Valentine’s Day and Chinese New Year of the Tiger.<o:p></o:p></b></p>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-50452401481707041492009-09-14T20:15:00.001-07:002009-09-14T20:27:41.517-07:00Coast Trip for Michael's 80th and other B'day Pics<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurz9O_Sa4AlpM7kXhDQ1kpVnobqDJX4mu9KMzFHXavC377C_c3E-t6azu6JhuOlCULmT9DVt5F1y9mLxwB2eJcQEXb_mv-A9WEIfgDuegCZavo6zlM4NHtkTHZId7x-edjKpa/s1600-h/11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurz9O_Sa4AlpM7kXhDQ1kpVnobqDJX4mu9KMzFHXavC377C_c3E-t6azu6JhuOlCULmT9DVt5F1y9mLxwB2eJcQEXb_mv-A9WEIfgDuegCZavo6zlM4NHtkTHZId7x-edjKpa/s320/11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381529651579416162" border="0" /></a>Dishes after the soup of the week before.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixfYqvL3-VFGohgZeWzpaV1Hz8zWUAKoWrapFMvfUENQXxgKxzGkBMYqLjItXesNSmlAcAm3aL-PZUPrlWmOXx47Ls9i3hnewEQJ4LtcsZQLHo_Umbv1ZjSMGcXqoORZFxGUBG/s1600-h/12.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixfYqvL3-VFGohgZeWzpaV1Hz8zWUAKoWrapFMvfUENQXxgKxzGkBMYqLjItXesNSmlAcAm3aL-PZUPrlWmOXx47Ls9i3hnewEQJ4LtcsZQLHo_Umbv1ZjSMGcXqoORZFxGUBG/s320/12.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528830410937586" border="0" /></a>Re-building the futon frame.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Seyz7xNCcfwu8O05O13BmU52rPUugNMkEZy5T3ifpR3CiirFpUqFv_bbXqnemHcQazc96mdgahone0H3BEZvlVmKTcNzU3OeT6kSlkeqtDagk0a6LTY7-NpaHnWUii8hHXkB/s1600-h/10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Seyz7xNCcfwu8O05O13BmU52rPUugNMkEZy5T3ifpR3CiirFpUqFv_bbXqnemHcQazc96mdgahone0H3BEZvlVmKTcNzU3OeT6kSlkeqtDagk0a6LTY7-NpaHnWUii8hHXkB/s320/10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528815798837154" border="0" /></a><br />A bit of a blurry Y that met us on the rocks<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglugXJ07ffmFWp6OgZ4njZm8bEw9e5iKI5BmrztuCZvZN_uKFcfo1gS90bo0uHDrn11vNNRRYep3rgbH33e8fdxo_8x4RjOSCKdHq3DmVBmpWT4Bb88Bf3Gwn_A0nk3WIK1rVd/s1600-h/9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglugXJ07ffmFWp6OgZ4njZm8bEw9e5iKI5BmrztuCZvZN_uKFcfo1gS90bo0uHDrn11vNNRRYep3rgbH33e8fdxo_8x4RjOSCKdHq3DmVBmpWT4Bb88Bf3Gwn_A0nk3WIK1rVd/s320/9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528810769902498" border="0" /></a>Michael coming from the first tide pool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAL6cLrFzmfG-efa-fPI1f_dOu4-pnjkF2XeBlI3w0h3hmgYURWSmpvLdOIHdRc5fy7Q_XkBPvCO16HaqWacjSI8AkdYARsySvNF9a0tOF64ItsUVe1Ur8rHWX4iEBI2B_78f/s1600-h/8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAL6cLrFzmfG-efa-fPI1f_dOu4-pnjkF2XeBlI3w0h3hmgYURWSmpvLdOIHdRc5fy7Q_XkBPvCO16HaqWacjSI8AkdYARsySvNF9a0tOF64ItsUVe1Ur8rHWX4iEBI2B_78f/s320/8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528801947079586" border="0" /></a>Hello, I'm 80!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qmSffr7pfRDZLPsuqD5sHToPiQ4Hx4YBmEbmQl4NU73Egy8Olzy4Gu4mwtghmBKtW1mb5Fq0g2n1R1_NorvuCQFslXpK2LCR56Ky_cxekMUjeiOPGR3EFHb7qDpI1uvLXY84/s1600-h/7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3qmSffr7pfRDZLPsuqD5sHToPiQ4Hx4YBmEbmQl4NU73Egy8Olzy4Gu4mwtghmBKtW1mb5Fq0g2n1R1_NorvuCQFslXpK2LCR56Ky_cxekMUjeiOPGR3EFHb7qDpI1uvLXY84/s320/7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528450969588146" border="0" /></a>A very interesting shaped rock figure.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoRx0y6IhVL6m0xq_rNb5UBI9YVoheA48oaDUF-lDEbJgVe6vTb98Ke0HxRZ-JvRczOnfoIZDLyvGHEHStkqMOfH-O9jqDOUunuQO2k3jJNT77a9xsUhE4gbw7uxOzQ0IJCHJ/s1600-h/6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqoRx0y6IhVL6m0xq_rNb5UBI9YVoheA48oaDUF-lDEbJgVe6vTb98Ke0HxRZ-JvRczOnfoIZDLyvGHEHStkqMOfH-O9jqDOUunuQO2k3jJNT77a9xsUhE4gbw7uxOzQ0IJCHJ/s320/6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528444422082434" border="0" /></a><br />Hole from the Albert Hall<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4lrq7i6J-00yLHx1BwYHJ9S3TvDYt5GfLXx1vCdPR0vEFLibggC3lU91GrGsVrsWu7lxKPHxPF1MfSLDb98cvMeY_cmSBctnsB2mUPwHVIjzqITEeugtZ1MOtlVDwx5ZCdwn/s1600-h/5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA4lrq7i6J-00yLHx1BwYHJ9S3TvDYt5GfLXx1vCdPR0vEFLibggC3lU91GrGsVrsWu7lxKPHxPF1MfSLDb98cvMeY_cmSBctnsB2mUPwHVIjzqITEeugtZ1MOtlVDwx5ZCdwn/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528434104177458" border="0" /></a>Filling the hole--peekaboo.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7cIFoKAohsKMJUJF5GIWthVLvtEa0a72evawKp3Y6b5cdP1NKAImbj2YcV9laIPBKdCJRFth9fYO4C1CVZxntVYHFfefTzkCH28D-5IP_ymyqBh3O7x6yo-ll5odTikotEgB/s1600-h/4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ7cIFoKAohsKMJUJF5GIWthVLvtEa0a72evawKp3Y6b5cdP1NKAImbj2YcV9laIPBKdCJRFth9fYO4C1CVZxntVYHFfefTzkCH28D-5IP_ymyqBh3O7x6yo-ll5odTikotEgB/s320/4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528432229911842" border="0" /></a>Mushroom on the road.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHfrFkpgZ20SL5t3gNKwD_ZGl4nE9FO4KYe9NO5qqGglCPolpMAr5lhvmpcH8lnNEUuQMndGU6Jeo-w7afHdy3tOgwTCLs0Y9dtJmbR6HIa2Ot824_MdzDsX0h-tiWX0p_gB4/s1600-h/3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHfrFkpgZ20SL5t3gNKwD_ZGl4nE9FO4KYe9NO5qqGglCPolpMAr5lhvmpcH8lnNEUuQMndGU6Jeo-w7afHdy3tOgwTCLs0Y9dtJmbR6HIa2Ot824_MdzDsX0h-tiWX0p_gB4/s320/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528423364019314" border="0" /></a>Michael and Leo who met us for a brief minute on the way to Waldport.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJjr1MFi9NkS8_lb6zEmtRzbJaVNEe0-TctKxeiNPv52vsUUGe7mTZvk__MX_tE1LuUY3dpoMRARfsyJ7Ul7geM05tB9gKB7n9L1xIDnLxhdITp8__3ENeEJcrCI272xVpWlh/s1600-h/2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJjr1MFi9NkS8_lb6zEmtRzbJaVNEe0-TctKxeiNPv52vsUUGe7mTZvk__MX_tE1LuUY3dpoMRARfsyJ7Ul7geM05tB9gKB7n9L1xIDnLxhdITp8__3ENeEJcrCI272xVpWlh/s320/2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381528021422732354" border="0" /></a>A hearty plate of rice at the Thai place on the Newport Bay Front.SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-51968656995775906472009-09-13T23:17:00.001-07:002009-09-13T23:17:55.627-07:00New Cat Amusement<span class="status-body"><span class="entry-content">I guess Manx's don't chase their own tails. But Starfish kitty sure doesn't need any fancy toys, she's quite happy chasing hers.</span></span>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-12023711963512215402008-08-04T20:38:00.000-07:002008-08-04T20:39:00.262-07:00Heading to the Dock of the Bay and AreaHey SF Bay Area--see you soon.SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-46214882945460198922008-03-22T22:53:00.000-07:002008-03-22T22:56:56.651-07:00Radio of the Day--The Outside World and InspirationDear all,<br /><br />Here is the embed that will hopefully work, if not the url is there and the two poems about my wonderful friends at KBOO late night radio.<br /><br /><embed src="http://blip.tv/play/AZbsPgA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="270" width="320"></embed><br /><br />A Sound Vision<br />(Ode to KBOO)<br /><br />I have seen radio,<br />a vision from which<br />one will never sleep again:<br /><br />curled around the speaker,<br />holding the bubble of sound<br />as it expands:<br /><br />circle upon circle<br />through the atmosphere<br />then through space.<br /><br />I have seen radio.<br /><br />I have seen the Octopus<br />in his garden<br />create the pastiche of sound<br />with a wink and a smirk.<br /><br />Prisms of waves,<br />rainbows of quiet,<br /><br />one sound, then two,<br />until they pinball<br />through the speaker<br /><br />to dreaming eyelids<br />and<br />dance in the heart.<br /><br />10/25/1999<br /><br />Ode II to KBOO<br /><br />It is this cord,<br />umbilical<br />that pulls us<br />guide us<br />from home to<br />the heart<br />as we drive<br />arrive from anywhere<br />to here, 20 SE 8th.<br /><br />It is this wave<br />of delight and torment<br />ecstasy and despair<br />consensus and conflict<br /> sweet controversy<br />which feeds our<br />introspections<br />and our global action.<br /><br />It is this circle<br />upon circle<br />upon circle outward<br />rippling through the<br />amber waves<br />and purple mountains<br />past henge and pyramid<br />perhaps even to The Great Wall<br /><br />touching other ripples<br />creating new angles<br />of thought.<br /><br />It is this spiral<br />which winds us<br />and springs us forth<br />through magnetic magic<br /><br />a conch shell<br />of ocean sounds<br />of thunder and of rain.<br /><br />8/1/2K<br /><br />cc nc nd Yaney LA MacIverSweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-19402202105006713222008-02-12T23:55:00.000-08:002010-02-15T17:29:58.726-08:00The Agony Aunt Letter<p>Dear Friends,</p><p>It was quite a pleasure to hang out with some of you when Michael and I came up for the KBOO meeting on January 26<sup>th</sup>.</p><p>I am at a crossroads in my life or perhaps <b>we</b> are at a crossroads. As many of you know the original plan had been to move to Greece once the kids were out of high school and the house. Well one kid, Zeke, took a couple extra years to move and due to my lay off at HP in 2001 (two weeks before 9/11) I didn't have the luxury of taking a sabbatical to test out the Mediterranean waters and then I worked for OPW which was a huge loss of $$ and almost crippled me due to the drive between Corvallis and Salem. And then Michael's condition deteriorated due to his hip (he will most likely need surgery). And I realise that at least the outside of the Π (Pi) in the Sky Ranch is very much what one would call a landfill (or a hippy dump) and neither of us are up to clearing it together or separately (at least at this point).</p><p>It was also, very much a pleasure to be hosted by Michael's son Nic and his wife Jess as well as his daughter Katie over the X'mas holiday week in Santa Rosa and SF. There is a wonderful group of people there who more or less support each other although sometimes with some attitude that is inimical to folks who have been together a long time on a communal project much as Star Mountain or KBOO for that matter are. And Santa Rosa is just an hour away from Berkeley and SF and not much further to Sactotoon where I have many relatives who I don't get to see very often.</p><p>Hence I am trying to figure out what to do next. We are not so in debt that selling the house and buying another gracefully is totally out of the picture (the financial deities willing). But there is of course a cash flow issue as I am now again unemployed and feeling like a <b>professional</b> job seeker (I mean I can write mocking cover letters as jokes to friends) and I have been living off credit card checks for the last little bit.</p><p>I have talked with Ani a bit about this and I know she would love to have me/us up in Portland Town and I think that would be better for my health (public transit, walking, not driving to concerts, just hanging out with friends face to face, mano a mano―it was so wonderful to be around you Conch you bring laughter and lightness). But would Santa Rosa be much different? I love those kids, they are fun, have good food and they let me be me even when I'm a bit tipsy. They are so awesome! You see the landscape in the Santa Rosa area especially between Santa Rosa and Sebastopol is so much like the landscape around my native Bishop, CA only greener and the hills remind me of going to Summit from Corvallis only with cactus. It's very perfect. But so is Portland Town in its way. I mean it reminds me a lot of Berkeley when I left only my friendships are deeper there than in Berkeley I mean I have folks who I consider soul mates, yet there could be many wonderful soul mates in Santa Rosa. Plus I could go take sax lessons at the Church of St. John Coltrane every week. Anyway. . .<br /></p><p>And just a few minutes ago another of the trees fell (an oak that had rotted away) at least it fell on another tree! So I say it s a sign that the land is telling us to leave, it is looking for someone else (most likely younger who can maintain it better). When I moved her nearly 15 or more years ago (The Π in the Sky Ranch that is not Corvallis which was 25 years ago this summer―damn nearly half my life in a place that has never embraced me and that I have not <b>really</b> found soul mates) anyway as I was saying when I moved to the Π I was very much needing a house to hold my three kids as they all left their dad when he moved to Buffalo. And I never thought I'd be at this house that long, I mean I guess it was a choice-whatever <b>real</b> choices life gives us.</p><p>But it is time to move on from the Π and I say this with the background of how painful the move from Berkeley to Corvallis was; how poor we <span style="font-size:+0;"></span>(Russ and I) were; how we lived in crappy places with splintery floors at times, dirt basements, cardboard walls. It was the hippy dream (nightmare) and what more was I to expect? The Π was at least <b>safe</b> for the kids. And I haven't been malnourished except for the first year here in Cornvalley. But I just can't do that type of a move again. So what am I supposed to do, can I have a real job please, and a nice house and will you come to potlucks/hang out, etc.? I know some of you may be thinking that I'm being quite the high maintenance valley girl here--but I've had enough funk (not funky music mind you--although) it almost broke my heart to see Liberty Hall when I've seen what folks can do to make a community place. (I know it's what's available and folks have put lots of effort into it yet take a look at <a href="http://www.thetemples.org/en">Damanhur</a> and you'll see what I mean.)<br /></p><p>So my dear Portland friends what say you about me moving up to Stumptown? I can admin and coordinate as you all know. Do you think that a busload of you might come down on Cool (providing it's available and Joe is willing) and help us with the yard? Or something like that. Will anyone step forward to be a point person to organize that up there? Or is this something better left to say JunkBeGone (I've written them but they've yet to reply―I know there's one also in Salem―but maybe they don't service here?).</p>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-46112032395806293892008-02-11T22:15:00.000-08:002008-12-11T23:47:30.526-08:00Tommy Hollywood's 12 String Stolen and Van Breakin Oustide KBOO 2/8<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSm-CQOcfutidLK2AuEn_WrctUFDUFW6SiitusxgKVPnRF_fSHNnaWrP-h1PB6tbD4vFDwmUACo93eW9cDK2e5hINuBR4Gkve8CY_apSF7iUvUUiPuKNB1dSae13Nkb8qNOd8/s1600-h/Guild+JF30+12+stg%232.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWSm-CQOcfutidLK2AuEn_WrctUFDUFW6SiitusxgKVPnRF_fSHNnaWrP-h1PB6tbD4vFDwmUACo93eW9cDK2e5hINuBR4Gkve8CY_apSF7iUvUUiPuKNB1dSae13Nkb8qNOd8/s320/Guild+JF30+12+stg%232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165974316930419666" border="0" /></a><br />From Tommy:<br /><br /><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">"Hi Yaney, I'm still reeling from what happened. There was broken glass all over the chocolate frosting on my birthday cake. I'm brokenhearted about my Guild. The electronics are just electronics, but that was a 17 year relationship with an instrument. I'm very bummed. The good news is people are keeping an eye out for it. Its not the most common guitar. The guitar is a Guild JF30 12 string. It is a beautiful jumbo flamed maple instrument. It has a few cracks in the finish from temperature fluctuations. One crack is right at the headstock. The crack is in the finish only. Here are a couple of pix. The Guild is sitting behind the Fender amp in these shots. I was parked half a block from KBOO's door....just waiting 15 minutes for Kathy Fours to move her car as she left at 2AM. I could have easily caught the bastards in the act. That might not have been such a good thing. The larger issue is the security of late night KBOO programmers."<br /><br />And on his birthday!!!!<br /><br />As many of you know KBOO was born in Tommy's dad's (Ern Hood's) house.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-38283177180313758082008-01-21T17:52:00.000-08:002008-01-21T17:53:24.169-08:00[hq2600] From Cynthia McKinney: "Something for Which to Vote<span style="font-size:85%;"> "We cannot be satisfied so long as the Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and the Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote."<br />Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. August 28, 1963<br /><br />Dear Friend,<br /><br />Are you:<br /> * Incredulous at the fact that two Presidential elections were stolen and no one was held accountable?<br />* Disappointed that, as a result, our country is at war, involved in torture, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and crimes against the peace?<br />* Concerned, especially in light of New Hampshire, that your vote might not be counted in November and that the will of the voters will be thwarted yet again with election fraud or outright theft?<br />* Disquieted that the use of electronic voting machines, coupled with laws that restrict public access to election data "owned" by voting machine companies, might thwart your ability to verify election results if they are in question?<br /><br />As acknowledged in the documentary American Blackout, I worked with investigative journalist Greg Palast and conducted my own Congressional investigation into election theft in Florida and across our country in the Presidential election of 2000. Those proceedings documented the role of Data Base Technologies, now a part of ChoicePoint, and election officials in Florida, in illegally "scrubbing" the voter rolls.<br /><br />In 2001, with Al Gore presiding, I objected to the seating of the Florida electors. Not one Senator objected and so there was no discussion and no debate in the Congress about what happened in Florida and across our country in the 2000 Presidential election during the seating of the Electoral College. The same pattern of fraud and theft was planned and executed in the 2004 Presidential election. But this time, not relying on any political party, the people themselves demanded and funded an investigation into what happened in Ohio. More and more information comes to us about how the will of voters in Ohio was deliberately suppressed to produce a desired outcome. This effort at discovering the truth of Ohio was led by independents, Libertarians, and the Green Party because the Democrats had already conceded the election.<br /><br />In my own 2006 Congressional election, Georgia courts have ruled that the electronic election data cannot be made public because they belong to Diebold. The matter is going to be appealed all the way to the Georgia Supreme Court, but isn't that a shame? In my election night speech I declared electronic voting machines a clear and present danger to our Republic.<br /><br />I want to keep election protection and a radical common sense approach to issues on the table. As the candidates with populist appeal, but without their party's support, are being pushed to the margins, I want to make sure that the election results are truly a reflection of the will of the voters. That will only happen if there is another voice raising critical issues.<br /><br />Are you also:<br />* Waiting to hear the leading Presidential contenders say that it's past time to repeal the Patriot Acts, the Secret Evidence Act, the Bush tax cuts, the Military Tribunals Act, bring our troops home now, and institute a livable wage?<br />* Infuriated that 48 million of our neighbors have no access to health care while those of us with insurance have our claims too often denied?<br />* Ready to have the Parties' solutions to the shrinking dollar and the ballooning national debt explained, especially in light of rising food prices and unemployment?<br />*Tired of the belligerent talk being directed at Iran and Pakistan and ready for our country to become a leader in pursuit of peace? And finally, are you also<br />*Afraid that the issues you really care about won't get addressed in this election season and therefore the likelihood of them being addressed by the incumbent is almost nil?<br /><br />I have traveled across our country to almost half its states. I have met too many people disillusioned by their fears that their issues won't be addressed in this campaign season. I've met many people who want to participate, but who long ago figured out that the system was rigged against the interests of working families and so, dropped out, but who want to have hope that our country can be delivered from its current morass.<br /><br />Too many are feeling that they have nothing for which to vote, that their votes won't count, even worse, they might not even be counted. To them, I suggest looking another way. As I have done. On March 17th of 2007, I declared my independence from national leadership that deepens the slough in which our country finds itself today. That leadership has enabled our country to throw away traditional American values of justice, and peace, and freedom.<br /><br />I have now become a member of the Green Party and am seeking its Presidential nomination.<br /><br />I'm encouraging the people I've met to join me and do some things we've never done before in order to have some things we've never had before. I hope you will lend your support so we can press for election integrity and put real solutions to the problems faced by real people on the table in real talk that we all can understand.<br /><br />This election in November is critical. The future of our country and the content of the current debate can be influenced by us. Please help me create the political space for real issues to stay on the table. I know you support the truth. I know you want to help the American people know the truth.<br /><br />Please visit www.allthingscynthiamckinney.com to review my record. Please visit www.runcynthiarun.org to donate to this effort.<br /><br />Please take the time to view two youtube offerings: http://youtube.com/watch?v=03cOM9r51Nw and http://youtube.com/watch?v=ozQ_iPuqCxg<br /><br />After viewing these films, I hope you will agree that our work deserves your support. The time is too precarious, the issues too important, our futures too much at risk for us to lose any more critical voices on important issues.<br /><br />Thank you again for your support of truth. I hope to hear from you soon.<br /><br />Sincerely,<br /><br />Cynthia McKinney<br /><br />P.S. You can mail your donation by U.S. Postal Service to:<br /><br />Power to the People Committee<br />Cynthia McKinney for President<br />P.O. Box 311759<br />Atlanta, GA 31131-1759<br /><br />Please complete and include in your mail our contribution form to help us comply with federal election reporting requirements:<br /><br />http://www.runcynthiarun.org/pdf/contributor_form.pdf<br /><br />Please note: Campaign Contributions are not tax-deductible. Corporate contributions are not permitted. Only U.S. residents and citizens aged 17 or older may make contributions to federal elections.<br /><br />--<br />"It is the absolute responsibility of everybody in uniform to disobey an order that is either illegal or immoral." General Pace, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, National Press Club, February 17, 2006<br /><br />"My brother need not be idealized . . . beyond what he was in life. To be remembered simply as a good and decent man who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw war and tried to stop it. Eulogy of Bobby Kennedy by Teddy Kennedy, June 18, 1968<br /><br />"Certain material weaknesses in financial reporting and other limitations on the scope of our work resulted in conditions that, for the 10th consecutive year, prevented us from expressing an opinion on the federal government's consolidated financial statements." David Walker, Comptroller General of the United States, December 15, 2006<br />_______________________________________________<br />Updates mailing list<br />Updates@lists.allthingscynthiamckinney.com<br />http://lists.allthingscynthiamckinney.com/listinfo.cgi/updates-allthingscynthiamckinney.com</span>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-83285131547176020342008-01-05T22:51:00.000-08:002008-01-12T21:18:59.299-08:00Adventures in Translator Land a Report from 100.7 K264AA<span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:8;" ><o:p></o:p></span>Well hi all from the SweetHeart of the Valley at the Pi in the Sky Ranch. As some of you Corvallans might know we have changed our translator antennae site from the commercial one we’ve been paying for through the nose all these years to the OPB/KOAC tower just a wee bit away from the former site. Hence we’ve been playing with the signal abit via KBOO engineer, John Mackey and a few other folks two Roberts (one of them dear Pue Rogers of Mt. St. Helens fame--<b>Echoes of Fury: The 1980 Eruption of Mount St. Helens and the Lives It Changed Forever </b>by <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/search-handle-url/105-9445362-3000452?%5Fencoding=UTF8&search-type=ss&index=books&field-author=Frank%20Parchman">Frank Parchman</a>) and a recent KBOO volunteer Brian who came up with Mr. Mackey just this last Friday.<span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:8;" ><o:p><br /><br /></o:p></span>Well what a day to come up to work on a tower! Wind gusts to 40 miles an hour, trees dancing tangos on Vineyard Mountain where the tower is located. And then we get up to just feet from the tower and the buildings and what should our wondering eyes see—but of course a downed tree in the road. Of course John asks if we have brought our chain saw, well myself, the SweetHeart of the Valley (being a bit of princess will not let a chain saw in her new—<i style="">to her</i>—’97 Plymouth Voyager with two sliders).And we gave the chain saw away as it was possessed and followed me around the laundry room. But thankfully Mr. Mackey has a four wheel drive rig and we pushed the top part of the tree out of the way so he could take Michael, Brian, and himself up to the tower (I as the princess I am stayed in the warm car). So the work got done and we headed back down the hill with John leading the way for me to back up down the road in the dark.<span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:8;" ><o:p><br /><br /></o:p></span>All this being said, should any of you in 100.7 land want to help out in tweaking the signal do let us know, we would like to map where it is better and worse since last Friday’s adventures. I promise you will not have to carry a chain saw—but we recommend that KBOO have one for this particular site issued in the engineering room as one might a portable recording device. And many thanks to the engineering team at KBOO for making the signal better here in Corvalley and its environs. <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:8;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Love always,</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%;font-size:8;" ><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">The SweetHeart of the Valley--Ever your Reality Chick<br />Pi in the Sky Ranch<br />http://piintheskyranch.blogspot.com/<br />http://www.myspace.com/sweetheartofthevalley</p>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-72087877920793028802007-11-16T21:53:00.000-08:002007-11-16T22:15:10.933-08:00A Theory of EverythingHey all check this dude out!! <a href="http://sifter.org/%7Eaglisi/">Garrett Lisi</a> not only can the guy surf, he's working on the Theory of Everything, see this article in the UK Independent: <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/earth/main.jhtml?xml=/earth/2007/11/14/scisurf114.xml&CMP=ILC-mostviewedbox">Surfer Dude Stuns Physicists with Theory of Everything</a>. Heck I can't even roller skate without breaking my left arm, done it twice. Thanks to my friend Melodie for passing this along to me.<br /><br />Reminds me of Moon Man--now that's a story I should tell from my UC Berkeley days. I have a moon acre that I bought for a mere dollar. Well he's gone on to write a book about it and new moon acres are now five dollars. Heck I made money in lunar real estate. And when I ordered his book (two copies, one for me, one for a friend along with a moon acre for the latter) he sent along a brand new acre for me, wow a stock split too. Anyway here's his site <a href="http://www.isoldthemoon.com/">I Sold the Moon </a>and since we're on the topic I might add to Barry's injunction of "Think Cosmically, Act Globally" to Eat Locally.<br /><br />Of course why have the two best books I've read recently been by Virgos? 'Splain' it to me Lucy!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">--42-- <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></div>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-67479210119171410402007-11-13T23:46:00.000-08:002007-11-14T00:24:49.562-08:00More of the Healing HeartWell it seems that yours truly my dear reader, cannot stay away on sabbatical forever. What does this week find your Reality Chick doing but attending three, count them three, political events and one, yikes this is where it gets scary, one meeting. It is time in these U$tates to meet candidates, candidates wives, contribute to as many ends as you can with whatever means available. But this time I promise I will breathe, keep my back open at the wings and not hunched over a steering wheel or even this input device.<br /><br />The events were:<br /><br /><ul><li>Elizabeth Kucinich this weekend</li><li>Cynthia McKinney today and tomorrow</li><li>And a Greens meeting this past evening where there were two candidates running one for Senate and one for the House (as in of Reps in DC)</li></ul>And but wait there will be more.<br /><br />However due to some Snafu in PDX land Ms. McKinney didn't make it to Corvallis, except by speaker phone--however myself and Tina being the "unwaged" lasses that we are decided we would drive down to Eugene to see her there. It was a fairly good crowd for Eugene, we in Corvallis, of course had more folks. We also had Tofu America pancakes and soysage for breakfast in Corvallis. And Eugene had a wonderful luncheon repast. So I joked with Tina that we should just follow Cynthia to Ashland (her next stop) and eat at Geppetto's, maybe we'd get the delightfully rude waiter. Yum. But we did return home.<br /><br />Of course the drive to Eugene and back was quite wonderful, this fall day. And as Danu drove us in comfort we two Virgo lasses caught up on the last few years, since our WTO times and I talked of recent heartbreaks, weaving the story amongst others along the backroads between Corvallis and Eugene. The story has condensed, become part of the mythology, the way I describe my life. It along with the other stories I have not had time to tell myself or read about myself until now braided their way along the backroads. And I realise that part of the hard part about this particular heartbreak is that it happened in June--you see everyone is gone for the summer (especially here in Oregon as they go to the Country Fair, etc.) July is particularly vacant for those of us who stay home. And so the telling of this story amongst friends (too long lost) remained unsaid until nearly the end of September. It has now been honed, edited, the essential elements left for the telling and for the understanding.<br /><br />Of course each heartbreak is a chance for renewal, for getting deep to the core of who you/we/I am. And as there are personal heartbreaks there are political ones. This may be the time for us all to fully realise our heartbreaks there too. To understand how great a love we come from when we act together to create a better world. To forgive ourselves its/our imperfections in the creation of this relationship with our greater selves, as we do with our individual selves. This is the time to care, to breathe, to know that you are working "in love". We have all had a terrible heartbreak from 9/11, Katrina, Iraq, ad infinitum (no thank you W). Our narratives are still being told as much as we tell our personal narratives about individual heartbreaks. We are still honing, understanding, and this is taking time--but in as much as the personal heartbreaks must take us through the grieving process which includes anger, so must our larger heartbreak that we share. And I think we have been in that anger, or we should relish it for a moment, accept it, feel it, love it for its cleansing. Take it in our silence or with wailing saxes, pounding drums, electric guitars on full feedback. Then can we begin to open the joy we once had and come back together again. But let us not be afraid anymore.<br /><br />We can do it, we <span style="font-weight: bold;">are</span> the ones we have been waiting for---------------breathe, release, breathe, release--<span style="font-weight: bold;">ACT</span>, but with thought, with love this time. We may well be afraid, but we are facing our greatest fear now. And we still love.SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-6554931566946243652007-11-08T00:14:00.000-08:002008-12-11T23:47:30.826-08:00So what did You do with your Extra Hour?Well dear readers, I went out to dinner, took in two concerts, brought the plants in for the cold season, and laid a carpet in the music room. Of course that took more than the extra hour and I had to sleep in Monday to recover.<br /><br />Want to post a new pic of me with my new do and glasses.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_5ktwFRd7w7s9mNprrcyBeixhiGnFb6UvhCCbujzMqhwWug0aE6b9FTE6bA6boKl-1VihfhK1qtq7kgYjXtqek7JavtYhyphenhyphenTmVjivjKU8zIBaFrOfap6cDR00IkSExUkFFora/s1600-h/myspace-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_5ktwFRd7w7s9mNprrcyBeixhiGnFb6UvhCCbujzMqhwWug0aE6b9FTE6bA6boKl-1VihfhK1qtq7kgYjXtqek7JavtYhyphenhyphenTmVjivjKU8zIBaFrOfap6cDR00IkSExUkFFora/s320/myspace-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130380662428515970" /></a>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-25301811905000822092007-10-21T22:08:00.000-07:002007-10-21T22:12:20.519-07:00Weekend Serenade for a Broken Heart and Celebration of SuchDear Blogospherians,<br /><br />What a week, what a time, what a life. As some of you know yours truly has been dealing with a particularly pesky broken heart. Well it seems that the mending is taking place. You know sometimes you meet someone who treats you with such sweetness, caring, and respect and if they do say those three words well you are gone. Has this happened to you dear blogospherian? But their “I love you” is not the same as your “I love you”. Of course, fear of rejection keeps you from asking, “Hey, what you mean you love me?” So if any of you in the dear blogosphere have an answer for what is the best, most polite, and less rejectable way of asking that let me know. For me when thrice said, if I like you, I’m gone. It’s almost like a spell. I mean don’t most folks run screaming from the room when you ask for clarification on that.<br /><br />And the other lesson I’ve learned as we are speaking about the dreaded L word is that perhaps it is best to let the person know when you are “in love” with them. But don’t they run screaming from the room. Well dear blogospherian—you are worth loving. And if they do run screaming from the room, at least you know, it’s easier to deal with it in the beginning than many months or years later. Plus, it gives them real time information that they might want to use. And perhaps to your advantage?!<br /><br />Anyway for me it’s been like having the water heater drained and a broken bone reset. Not quite as fun as a tooth cleaning but close; all very necessary maintenance activities (should you have the broken bone of course).<br /><br />And I just did a Google on blogospherian and it is already on The Google. So I didn’t invent it but it is being used. Can we have Mr. Gates please add it to the MSWord dictionary. Well I can do that myself and so can you dear blogospherian. It’s just a right click away. Rejectable is also on The Google so you can right click that one too.<br /><br />So here’s a toast to those that come along and reset our broken hearts by breaking them in all the right places and helping us put them back together. May their hearts be healed as well.<br /><br />Thanks for the memories, attention, and caring. Now let’s move on to our next journey and calling.<br /><br />With deep caring and Irini,<br /><br />YSweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-35371819428142138622007-10-11T23:12:00.000-07:002007-10-14T21:17:54.062-07:00The GiftYou have been given a gift.<br />Do you marvel at it?<br />Strange and precious as it is<br /><br />Did you not ask for it?<br />Was it not ordered?<br /><br />Were you not thrilled when it arrived; you opened it with such anticipation, tearing the packaging, maybe reading the card first, or then again later? Maybe you saved it for that special day to open.<br /><br />And in the receipt or use thereof you find that it was not quite the item you expected from the catalogue.<br /><br />Perhaps it was more, perhaps it was less, and perhaps it had different features than described or presumed.<br /><br />Maybe your system requirements were not sufficient or the gift was for an older version.<br /><br />But you have been given a gift.<br />And the gift you.<br /><br />©11 October 2007—Yaney LA MacIverSweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-15865206862162316862007-10-06T22:37:00.000-07:002007-10-11T23:32:23.707-07:00Dear John—Happy BirthdayThe wheel has turned again, the great grapefruit SOHO wheel, and we come to the annual birthday celebrations of John Coltrane and John Lennon—Libras and happy birthday too to Linda the muse, who has called us all here, well some of us. And then Happy Birthday my dear Mr. Beel Dodge you will be 50 when KBOO is forty next year—what plans can we make for the party. Yes Daniel, I’ll go with you on 24 hours of St. John WillIAm Coltrane.<br /><br />Hence two weekends in a row, of sleep or not to music, screaming Saxes, screaming Yoko, screaming Beatles, screaming flies, screaming electric unladylandlike guitars. Screaming, screaming—primal screaming. How after eight years of Lennon night I begin to notice a wave, a rhythm of the night—<em>Because</em> is always around 2 AM, and <em>Good Morning</em> too early in the morning before we country folks would ever hear a rooster crow, no wonder we are awake all night even in our own bed, and then the soft last two or three songs of the night before the country show starts. We walk softly out of the station; our trash put away, the dishes washed, softly to the bright October morning light.<br /><br />And I think of/remember last year’s Lennon weekend and the first time I really went to the Greek Fest. And now dear Daniel tells me about the room in the Greek church that has the pix of the churches’ history including pix of his family and him with a crew cut, I imagine someone looking like Eddie Munster—I will have to see this room and the young Daniel to see this Adam’s family portrait.<br /><br />How, last year/Lennon Weekend, the dream of the Laundromat in Greece was still alive, and the life that had been planned for next to ever was still taking shape, breakfast with Melodie, sitting in mamayiayiapapaFlessas’ living room discussing how that plan might take place and what it might look like. Oh my dear Laundretiki you are no longer a dream, a desire, and I’m not sure what else to put there, or where the dream is leading.<br /><br />How last year, this weekend, I was so different than I am this year, this weekend. Perhaps I listened too loud to the music, maybe I was supposed to turn down the volume but it kept speaking to me and it did not seem to want to be on mute. I am as changed as if I had studied sax under John Zorn. My whole body has become an instrument, and I have learned how to whisper in the tenor—you should have heard me last Thursday. So soft on that G, so soft, listen loud, play soft. I have been played and I have played, been one, and been alone more than ever. Lost walls between me and the universe, lost boundaries, opened to all, open to one, with the door once open and the light of the sun shinning through it bright with arms open. Then as it opened the door closed, closed, closed; a glimpse as in the dreams, but only a glimpse, evaporation a mirage on the desert highway. Oh yes I could have written the Song of Songs, that is why I don’t need to read it more than the once. I have known it forever. Where is my love? He is always lost in the Song. Where is my love?<br /><br />Oh and how listening to Lennon, finding the song of Donovan wafting through, even in <em>Rocky Raccoon</em>, and then hearing the Lennon in the other’s music. I don’t think I ever knew how much I’ve listened and internalised the music. But I do know now. And yet how Daniel also is the musician and how he and the good doctor Geoff play the instrument: Lennon.<br /><br />And then there is Daniel, pitching, “join us" as in it's time to become a <a href="http://www.kboo.fm/">KBOO member</a>, telling us all about Yoko and the <a href="http://imaginepeace.com/">Peace Tower</a> that will light from the Earth on Tuesday. We parents of children dream/want to bring into being a world that will last for our kids. We will not go lightly into the night of destruction. <strong>Imagine</strong>. Through your music, Daniel, John and John, Timothy, Donovan, Frank, and Derek we dream/sing the new world that will come. If we continue singing/dreaming/loving.<br /><br />Yes, "we are all one and it is all about love", haven't we consented on that in the meeting between us. But that love in the ether is just that ether, air/wind. And I call you to remember the very real/substantial earthlings that need love’s kinesis. Although:<br /><br /><strong>Because God Is An Air Sign</strong><br /><br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br /><br />Not an Earth Sign, God,<br />Or he’d be standing next to you in the grocery line.<br /><br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br /><br />Not a fire sign – oh no<br />Gusts extinguish each flame.<br /><br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br /><br />Not a water sign<br />Water obeys wind, creates walls/paths.<br /><br />Because God is an air sign<br />around us all the time.<br /><br />©6 October 2007—Yaney LA MacIver<br /><br />Irini—Y—10/7/2007SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-26115819220947293512007-09-12T09:35:00.000-07:002008-12-11T23:47:31.102-08:00An Extra Special Delivery on My Birthday<div>Hi all,</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>As many of you know my birthday was yesterday, September 11. Well now I share it with a grandson--so introducing Kylin Casey.</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109357729864987090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGykvOXYuSVak3uA7fnkT3MFrcB8Q03U2BytZgdu2z43WDKIlkgzN8zYu__A8NImDlJzYHj-V-PBmci85qQZMgNem_Ax20Yzze3rGbBDDlo0097dCO74x_8psE_X8UurZbZtI/s320/Kylin.jpg" border="0" /></div>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23309159.post-86633000487992672582007-08-31T16:34:00.000-07:002008-12-11T23:47:31.374-08:00Mama's Got A Brand New RidePablo and Malcom welcome you to the brand new ride, Danu is his name. And ain't he sweet!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIHkVfwb7g-hIZix-T4qkaEA6QxwA3vCTPyAZWamM1dPmht_B7iJpvHuFFp16jSX5yYGFLb_Os9SbLCjP6vKkYdDsN5cG2pTx17VGAS07BIAJQl7GawOiXp-_WNPrWmNEJqLM/s1600-h/pablo+and+malcom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105012642099507682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhIHkVfwb7g-hIZix-T4qkaEA6QxwA3vCTPyAZWamM1dPmht_B7iJpvHuFFp16jSX5yYGFLb_Os9SbLCjP6vKkYdDsN5cG2pTx17VGAS07BIAJQl7GawOiXp-_WNPrWmNEJqLM/s320/pablo+and+malcom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrxHaW3K2VHYP9mcy6DhorvLqbPijeeVXY66n8-08hgN4JGp_wSE0psDDxNs_ZS1wARvoAqvvGimMBVNZYFrBD54G7FegyEPeT5pMU5UntvOiftoqEhTMXjGxZ3_IDbniVgSy/s1600-h/carpass.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105012500365586898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUrxHaW3K2VHYP9mcy6DhorvLqbPijeeVXY66n8-08hgN4JGp_wSE0psDDxNs_ZS1wARvoAqvvGimMBVNZYFrBD54G7FegyEPeT5pMU5UntvOiftoqEhTMXjGxZ3_IDbniVgSy/s320/carpass.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnEV4PZKSjXJdJHatQrWDIJMAAun1INtZ6G7MF9GcFdRxKRJUegiNKkARKWErcfNNyTbny2PY7wM2isjXaqppGWVXPIKfQV6SAbPuKlOLMpPfWvq00R_O6p6fLNCG3ATNqS__/s1600-h/cardrive.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105012414466240962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOnEV4PZKSjXJdJHatQrWDIJMAAun1INtZ6G7MF9GcFdRxKRJUegiNKkARKWErcfNNyTbny2PY7wM2isjXaqppGWVXPIKfQV6SAbPuKlOLMpPfWvq00R_O6p6fLNCG3ATNqS__/s320/cardrive.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>SweetHeart of the Valleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00800939276367349108noreply@blogger.com0