Category Archives: Photos

Best AI Quote EVER

Happy Today!
Have a fantastically wunnerful up-coming week.
I love you. I appreciate you. You are wonderful!

Due to technical defrugalties, Coffee Break Escapes is late. My web mistress is working the situation and within minutes of its being cleared, you will find CBE in your inbox. The most honorable web mistress apologizes, as do I. But, she is marvelous, and you are now reading.

Trader Joe coming????

Since I’ve moved into the Tries, rumors float to the surface every so often that Trader Joe’s is coming! And maybe they are. Or not. The Trader looks at population and parking availability, according to an article in our newspaper, and they see the Tries not as one area of 300,000 population, but as 3 separate cities of (what, 100K each?) which isn’t enough. The article contained a link to put in our browser if we want a TJs—type in “Request a Trader Joe’s” or click here: https://www.traderjoes.com/home/contact-us/request-a-store. I’ve mailed them, periodically, letters requesting same, and never received a reply. But, what the heck, I filled out their form, and maybe, just maybe, enough other Tri-Citians will also fill it out, explain that it’s primarily the pols who see 3 separate cities, but us locals just see three neighborhoods separated by 3 rivers with more than 3 bridges connecting us. That we cross into each other’s neighborhood to shop all the time. Also to visit friends and we’d love to visit Trader Joe. So, if you have a TJs in your neighborhood, congratulations, maybe we’ll get one, too. eventually. maybe sooner! Hope springs eternal…

Travel

I’m going to be travelling for the next three weeks or so, not far, but staying with friends I haven’t seen in a long time, so there is a very good probability (high) I will be busy with friends and not writing the blog. But I shall return. Honest. Trust me.

Best AI Quote EVER!!!:

“I got in my car to drive the 200 miles between San Francisco and New York City. I should make it in about two hours.”

Book Reviews

Turn Up the Ocean: Poems by Tony Hoagland

This is Hoagland’s last book of poetry, put together by his widow a couple years after his death. He knew his was dying when he wrote several of the poems. I hope, if I have that foreknowledge and time, my poems will be written with the humor and pathos with which Hoagland wrote.

Hoagland is a writer I truly wish I could have met and shared a cuppa with. His very first poem in the book is “Bible All Out of Order” and I laughed from the first stanza, “One thing’s for sure; in the future, the morgues are going to be full of tattoos. / It’s going to be more colorful and easier to manage: / ‘Hey Jeff, move Dolphin-Shoulder-Girl to tray seven.” / “And get Mr. Flames-on-My-Neck out for the doc.” to the line, “It’s possible I have this all out of order.” to the last two lines, “while being tossed this way and that, askew and asunder, / in this blithering whirlwind of wonder.”

Just reading the Contents, is in itself a poem, and trust me, the actual poems are far more than the sum of the title’s worth! Gorgon, Immersion, Why I like the Hospital, The Reason He Brought His Gun to School: A Blues, Illness and Literature, On Why I Must Decline to Receive the Prayers You Say You Are Constantly Sending, Dante’s Bar and Gril, The Decline of the Roman Empire, Reading While Sick in the Middle of the Night, Peaceful Transition, with a whole bunch more.

The book ends with “Peaceful Transition.” It begins with, “The wind comes down from the northwest, cold in September,” and flows to “I see the wren has found a way to make its little nest / inside the cactus thorns.”

Rest in Power, Tony Hoagland. Thank you for being, thank you for writing, thank you publishers for publishing your works, thank you for this last book of poetry. You are, truly, missed.

The book is available from your favorite bookstore or the two linked below. And probably your library (but they’ll want it back).

Turn Up the Ocean: Poems by Tony Hoagland
Published by Graywolf Press, 2022
ISBN:  978-1-64445-092-5 (paperback)
ISBN:  978-1-64445-180-9 (ebook)
Bookshop.org              abebooks.com
5 Stars

The Beautiful Foolishness: poems by Wayne Lee

I love Wayne Lee’s poetry, I have two of his earlier books, and as soon as this one was available on pre-order, I pre-ordered. I love pre-ordering books for a variety of reasons: 1. It helps the publisher know how popular the book will be, 2. it gives the author a warm fuzzy and, 3. I tend to forget I ordered it, and then a month or three later, I receive a beautiful book in the mail like an unexpected and welcomed present. Another reason, some publishers base their royalty payments on pre-sales, and nothing else, and once the pre-sale is over, the royalty rate is set, and no matter how many books are sold later, royalty doesn’t change.

Back to the topic, Lee’s book: Lee is a Buddhist, and the peacefulness of Buddhism comes through in his poems, as well a deal of humor—foolishness—and the beauty of our world as it is. The first poem, “The Sky Has Spoken” begins with maintenance of life, “A magpie flies between you and the sun” and drops a dead bird at your feet, a raven flies overhead and drops the warm heart from a small being, “The sky has spoken in a language / you do not understand.” We ask questions, seek meaning beyond what was given, and our questions “rise like cottonwood fluff” and we “listen like a child / with a bright red crayon / poised above a pure white page.”

The poems are printed in four sections, each section its own, and each beautiful. I love “Approaching Home” which begins, “And then one day you realize / you’re close to home,” and ends with “to some familiar place / you’ve never been.” What a beautiful way to say you can’t go home again, you can’t step into a river twice in the same place, the world never stops moving.

There is a whole section of haiku, and the first is one of my favorite, “sitting at the feet / of the Buddha / a child laughs”. The last poem in the book, “Flannel Shirt” begins, “It’s the way the shirt hangs” and ends, “on the chair just right”.

Lee’s poems don’t just breathe life and give joy, but give us permission to accept the joy of being alive and to grasp that life in both arms and dance and laugh with it. Buy it, read it, live.

The Beautiful Foolishness: poems by Wayne Lee
Published by Casa Urraca Press
ISBN: 978-1-956375-43-5
Casa Urraca Press Bookshop.org
5 Stars

Please support Independent Booksellers, and if you’re a writer, check out Indie Presses.

The Things You See…

I was walking the SamSam the other day, and found this on the back of a car in our parking lot. I thought it worth sharing—and maybe getting 😉

“His voice deadly calm in the way that makes people check their life insurance.”
—another AI quote

You Can Learn a Lot off YouTube!

Part, The Last (unless it’s the penultimate one)

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Weather in the Tries:
Oooh, we be gonna dip our toes into below freezing a couple of nights coming up (OK, it’s only 31F, still…) The ays for the next week will wander around between 51F and 58F. I look at my pictures often just to get warm. And drink hot tea. Methinks Winter is approaching, with a long siege in mind.

Part, The Last (unless…)
Today’s post is mostly photos. Didn’t think you’d mind too much.

It took me a while to get this guy. We were at the park for the UNWRA 5K walk. These are from Dallas and Houston.

What’s a post without a kitty?

Red Hibiscus

Yellow flower

A ficus of some sort.

Now we skip into Arizona. (Skip phip. It was a long drive!) I’ve got an inordinate amount of shots–16 in all. Well, actually, I’ve got a lot more than that, but I narrowed them down to 16. I think I need to narrow a bit more, eh?

This is the entry to Good Friends Maryann and Dave’s house. I want one.

We went to a covered market in Tucson where they had a plethora of wonderful item for sale. This horse was one. I wonder if he was made from Saguaro ribs?

A friend of mine says she reminds him of Phyllis Diller. Isn’t she grand? I think she’s about 3′ tall. I didn’t see a price tag which is a good thing. I don’t a place to put her.

We had dinner at El Charro down the street a couple of blocks from the market. I had a ceviche tostada. The shrimp, etc were throughout the pile, not just on the outside! After dinner, we went to Cherrie’s home, and these shots were from her back yard.

This is a young saguaro. Like many little kids, he had to put everything in his mouth. He ate the moon, but apparently it didn’t tase good because he spit it out a few minutes later.

OK, that’s probably enough for today. There will be another Part, The End next week. Oh it was so warm down there. It will be warm, again, here. But not for several months.

from the desk of the brave dog;
sheesh, but i don’t understand humans. she showed me some of her pictures and there’s not a smell to them. don’t they have dogs down there. what good is it to see something and have no accompanying smells. humans..

Part, The Second

FMQ Looks Soooo Easy!

As You May Imagine

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Weather in the Tries:

Oof Da! Can you say: Sun? Can you say: Hot? Yep, that be us. Am listening to the ambient music, Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Not that I’m lonely, but it’s raining in the video. You know, cool.

As you may imagine:
Well, I imagine you can imagine this past week was not the bestest in my world. It took a few days for me to get over SCOTUS’ ruling on Monday. Maybe not over it, but through it. Through most of it.

On the sunny side of the street, I was in a bookstore the other day, and came home with two books. Yeah, I know, you’re so surprised. /snort/ One is a book of poetry by Margaret Atwater. I love her poetry, and haven’t seen a new book of hers in a long time. So I am reading Dearly before I turn the light out at night.

The second book is, The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. A small book, maybe 5” x 8”, filled with delightful 2-3 page essays he wrote over a year finding delights where he could, including memories. It is a delightful book, and just what the doctor ordered!

Should you find yourself wandering in a bookstore, wander over to the poetry/essay section and look through his book. Take the time to read a couple of his essays. Shucks, while you’re there, look at Dearly by Margaret Atwood, even if you don’t like poetry. Particularly if you don’t like poetry! Her poems are mini stories in a different form. Try a couple. Perhaps you will walk out of the store with two books (or more).

Also, I discovered some new-to-me channels on YouTube and I thoroughly enjoy them—woodturning and woodworking channels! Absolutely great ways to get my eyes and ears out of the news that is so damn depressing. My two favorite woodworking channels are Foureyes furniture and Blacktail Studio. The guys are fun, they explain what they are doing, what they did wrong, and how they fixed it. I love how they work, too. Would I ever spend $15K on a table? uh, no, but if I decided to, it would be from one of these two guys. And I must be learning something—on Sunday I decided to watch someone else make a table. I was quite taken with the top and I wanted to see how he made it. He made it cheaply. Where the guys above glue and clamp, this guy used way less glue and nails. Where Chris (?) and Cam (above furniture builders) take the time to get every join perfect, where they use several grits of sandpaper, where they spend time finishing their work, the table I was so taken by was very shoddily made. The joins did not match, the sanding was perfunctory, and the finish was sprayed on. I watch they guys for entertainment, but apparently, I’m also getting an education.

If you are in the market for some new and high quality furniture, I strongly suggest you watch a few episodes of the guys at the links above. Not that I’m recommending them to you (which I am) but to see how they work, and what to look for when you go shopping.

By the way, Cam at Blacktail Studio is the one who came up with the Damascus Denim Desk. Yes, a desk made out of denim. Check it out here. Talk about fabric art!!!

Photo of the Week:
Yep, it’s me. I had to get some new headshots for the new book, Saying Goodbye to Thomas, which will be ready for pre-order probably in in Feb/Mar 2025. As you undoubtedly know, there are few things I hate worse than having my picture taken. From my POV, I look like Sophia Loren. From the camera’s POV, I look like me. God, what a let-down for all concerned.

photo by Katrina

from the desk of the hot dog;
the one and only bad thing about the heat is sometimes the hard, black surface of the driveway where most of my walking is done, is too hot for my feets. otherwise, all this sun and hot is pure heaven for this desert dog. can you see my tail wag.

Music of the Week:
Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Great ambient music to have on, turned low, and write or study by. There are several pieces online for this music. I think if I could play it on the bedside radio I do not have, I could easily sleep with it. No, it doesn’t make me sleepy (couldn’t work or study if it did) but I think it would make great sleeping music.

Quote of the Week:

“Re-examine all you have been told.
Dismiss what insults your soul.”
—Walt Whitman

ps:
Looking for a nightmare? Give this site a once or twice over: American Autocracy Threat Tracker. Truly scary stuff! But necessary. How sad is that?

Saying Goodbye to Thomas

3 Replies

Weather in the Tries:
Oh my goodness gracious sakes alive! A week of sunshine is ahead of us. A tad cooler than yesterday, the temps will mostly be in the 80s until the weekend, when it will drop to the 70s. And the humidity, though higher in the morning and night, will be low enough that the heat will be heavenly.

Saying Goodbye to Thomas:
In case you missed the wee bit in last week’s post about my chapbook being accepted, Finishing Line Press has accepted my chapbook, Saying Goodbye to Thomas. These are the poems I wrote, mostly in the final months of his life, about his dying. No, they are not all doom and gloom, you know me better than that. At any rate I think I’ve calmed down a wee bit from the excitement. It will spike again, when I get the contract. Then it will be really real;-)

Here is their acceptance. Well, a small portion thereof, I’m sure you don’t want to read the whole thing. This is the important part:

“Thank you for submitting to us. Your manuscript has been accepted for publication. We would love to publish your book.” Every time I read those three sentences I just get giddy all over again 😉

Please check Finishing Line Press out and consider buying a book. Small Press publishers are a mainstay for poets. Not sure which one to buy, get Finding Her by Kristie L. Williams. It’s a great book.

I’m a writer, I’m used to rejection. But sometimes, when enough come with no breaks, it’s hard to remember that editors aren’t rejecting me, they are rejecting my work. And they can reject it for a myriad of reasons. Maybe I used a word they don’t like, or I wrote about peace instead of war, or I wrote it in this form and they really love another form. Or, as so many rejection/pass letters state, my work just didn’t grab them. Any and all of those reasons are valid, plus the plethora I didn’t list.

It’s really nice when acceptance letters come in like rejections usually do. Within a month, I had something like 8 poems accepted/published. Huzzah! for editors 😉

Depending on your frame of mind, you may or may not want to download the WeCroak app. They will send you 5 messages a day to remind you, you are not a permanent fixture as a live person. It’s inspired by a Bhutanese folk saying: to be a happy person, one must contemplate death five times daily. I just went to the computer one, and they have “the final word on advice columns” you can ask Death for advice on current events, relationships, etc. and so forth. I’m enjoying it very much, but then, I’m weird. However, should you get it for your phone or ipad or watch or whatever, let me know what you think of it. They have both ios and android.

I keep hearing Johnny Mathis singing Chances Are. Yeah, I’m wearing that silly grin, but it’s not because I’m in love with some guy, it’s because my book about my Elder Brother of Choice is being published. Oh, happy dance, happy dance. Oh, wait. Yeah, I am in love with some guy. He’s a spoiled rescue dog!

Speaking of being a spoiled dog, he’s finally taking treats from my hand! That’s huge. I used to have to set them down and walk away, or gently toss them near him. Even the one that looks like a stick to him. Especially the stick one. Now he takes it from my hand. Sometimes it takes a bit. I’d sure like to know how badly he was abused. I think it’s worse than I imagine, which makes me want to hold him and cry and then go find the abuser and abuse him the same way he abused this poor puppy.

Photos of the Week:

Thomas loved watching the bunnies in the yard.

And he loved tossing peanuts out for the crows. One was fairly tame, Thomas called him Podjo, Old Friend.

This Rosemary plant is huge, and was right next to the outside door to Thomas’s area, and when the sun shone, and it was warm, we’d open the door and enjoy the perfume.

from the desk of the big chihuahua;
my human seems tremendously happy i am now taking treats from her hand. i wish i could tell her why it took so long, but she has been patient. sometimes, i still can’t do it, but she doesn’t seem upset when i want it tossed to me.

Earworm of the week:
Need you wonder? One of my girl-hood heart throbs, Johnny Mathis sings Chances Are.

Quote of the week, compliments of Good Housekeeping:

“Live out of your imagination, not your history.” ~ Stephen Covey

New Title: Happy Dance! Happy Dance!

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Weather in the Tries:
Days in the coming week will ge as high as 95F, or higher. In fact, we have 2 days scheduled in the 70s, 1 in the high 80s, with the last four in the 90s. I believe the swimming pools will be crowded 😉 We have two pools. This complex used to be large, and then the owners divorced and one got Clearwater Bay, the other got Herron Lake (sic) but about the time we moved in, they went back to one complex, but maintained the two names and two addresses. And each complex has their own pool. Isn’t that just a fascinating bit of trivia? Not.

Holidays and… New Title: Happy Dance! Happy Dance!
Yessiree Bobcat, last Monday was a holiday and I took it. For those of us who used to work for The Boeing Company, it was our first 3-day weekend of the year. The company and our union negotiated trading the week ends until Memorial Day for the days off between Christmas and New Year. Having those days off in the winter were marvelous. If the days fell ‘right’ we could take a couple days of vacation and get two weeks off. It was worth the price! It gave us workers a great break, and the company a chance to do annual maintenance without us underfoot!

Last Thursday (30 May) was the first Deathversary for Thomas. I went back to the Dark Side and spent some time with my Bonus Sister. On Friday, we took some of Thomas’s ashes down to Golden Gardens Park. Bonus Sister Sheryl found a nice tunnel of greenery we walked through to the beach. It was quite windy on the water, but my Bonus Sister found a large, flat piece of seaweed and put the ashes in it, rolled it, and tossed it into the water. Sadness accompanied us, for a short time, but once he was back in the water, his beloved Puget Sound, we wore far more smiles than tears.

On the way back home, she stopped by the Nordic Museum, where we took photos of Frankie Feetsplinters, the resident troll, then went inside to the snack bar and had a very good Ginger Beer (Reed’s Extra—look for it) and a cookie. Then back home for happy hour with the two across-the-street neighbors who were so good to Thomas and Sheryl and me. It was so pleasant, we sat on the patio! There are trolls all over the western part of the state. Or at least Puget Sound area. All made from reclaimed wood. All made by Thomas Dambo.

On Saturday, we were invited to a good friend’s houseboat on Lake Union, where we were feted with salmon grilled on a cedar plank. OMG! It was marvelous. cooked to perfection! We ate on the deck, watched the water traffic and had a marvelous visit. Thomas used to love going to the houseboat to visit and eat. We sat outside and after the other guests left, we watched the sunset, and dropped some more ashes into the lake, followed by a tequila toast to Thomas. Hope the fish appreciated that very good tequila! Sheryl found one of his poems, Water Remembers, one of the last ones he wrote, read it aloud, and then we left.

On Tuesday morning, I tried to post this blog, but as I discovered this morning, Word Press has gone in and changed things that weren’t broke and… Yes, Auntie Lenora got very frustrated, so she went to lunch with a good friend who used to live in the Tries, was forced to move to the Dark Side for personal reasons, and is looking at apartments to rent here, so she can move back. She thinks she found one, I hope so. It will be great to have another friend close by.

Got home from a great gab fest and then had some pooch time and a nap. Woke from the nap to an email that Finishing Line Press has accepted my chapbook, Saying Goodbye to Thomas. What a fantastical addition to the blog, eh? So, prepare yourself for updates. I do know one of the things they require are pre-sells, and when I find out more about it, I will be asking you all to buy a book. Or two or more. When I do ask, there are two things you should consider: 1. No, is an appropriate answer. (You won’t have to see me cry.) and 2. Remember, I am making no money off this book. All royalties will be divided in half, with half going to the ALS Association and the other half to End of Life Washington. Both of which brought a lot of help and succor to Thomas.

Pictures of the Week:
Sheryl walking through the tunnel to the Sound

A sloop, as seen through the tunnel. Thomas had a sloop. The mountains in the back are the Olympics. They used to be white all year. Amazing what a hoax can do, isn’t it?

Frankie Feetsplinters, Troll

Crossing Lake Washington on one of the floating bridges with Mt. Rainier in the background

Sunset on Lake Union, Seattle

from the desk of the not lonesome anymore dog:
my human came home. my human came home. she was gone like forever. i didn’t think she would ever come home, but she did. housemate dan said she would, but i wasn’t sure. it was so lonely, especially at night. it wasn’t warm, she wasn’t there. but she’s home now. see me do my happy dance.

Quote of the Week compliments of Good Housekeeping:

“Life is a song – sing it.
Life is a game – play it.
Life is a challenge – meet it.
Life is a dream – realize it.
Life is a sacrifice – offer it.
Life is love – enjoy.” ~ Sai Baba

Once Again, I am the Late Auntie Lenora

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Weather in the Tries:
Yeah, it’s still out there with sun sometimes and either dark or cloudy the others. No more freezes, but still breezes.

Once again, I am the Late Auntie Lenora:
It was a week. Last Monday, I drove Favorite Daughter and Favorite Grandcat Bruce, to the WSU Veterinarian Hospital for tests and a sleep over. Because Favorite Daughter has other cats at home, we drove home Monday to sleep in our own beds and then back to Pullman and WSU on Tuesday to collect Favorite Grandcat Bruce. He said the food was awful, and the sleepover ok, but he doesn’t want to do a repeat.

Actually, I don’t think I want to do a do-over, either. My allergies went bonkers and I’ve been fighting a sinus infection. Housemate Dan even went shopping for me and brought back some Afrin and some Nasocort. I do feel like I am actually coming back to feeling like a human. At least the sinus headache is down to a susurration.

Other than walking the Beast (aka Sammy) I haven’t been outside much. Did meet a friend for coffee yesterday and have a networking social this evening.

Did make my poetry critique group on Saturday, and finally have a long poem ready to be abandoned. (Poems are never finished, merely abandoned.)

I also woke at 3:00am and realized I hadn’t written, let alone posted, this week’s blog. I am dedicated, but not that dedicated. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Listening to the music of Dune by Hans Zimmer. Dune are my ‘thumb sucking’ books, at least the original 6 by Frank Herbert. And try as I might, every time I’d get the litany against fear memorized, I’d mess it up somehow, and yet it was, and is, one of my favorite things. In one of the books, Reverend Mother Odrade said it took long to say, so she shortened it to: “Face your fear or it will climb over your back.” Yep, that one I can remember for more than two days running. The original, for those of you who may not remember it, is: “I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” ― Frank Herbert, Dune

But, back to the music, there are several parts of it on he www, not something I would want to listen to all the time, but great background for reading, writing, or sewing.

Photos of the Week:
Not sure what this is, but it’s in the Vet School complex on the second or third floor. Break room? Lunch room? Reading room? Just thought it was an interesting picture.

This is the first of two bas relief (?) curved glass panels that greet one when entering the small animal clinic. The represent the wetlands, and the floor, which I did not shoot, was set with the foot prints of 17 animals who would be found in the wetlands and wave lines. There was a coffee pot and hot water pot with teas and hot coco available. Very nice set up. (There are three entrances—wildlife rescue, small animal, and large animal. Mostly in the small animal, we saw dogs and cats, but also bunny and ferret. The bunny people came from Seattle. The school has a very high reputation.)

from the desk of the spoiled beast;
my humans spoil me. if housemate dan gets up early, my pestering him will get me breakfast and a walk earlier than if I pester mom. she thinks my tummy is on a schedule. well, I guess it is. the schedule is when it’s hollow and empty it needs food. or when I’m up and see my empty bowl. she’s always saying she ordered a cat and got me, so I don’t understand why she doesn’t love me more when I act like a cat. humans are really strange.

Quotes from Bill Nye:
“Television isn’t inherently good or bad. You go to a bookstore, there are how many thousands of books, but how many of those do you want? Five? Television’s the same way. If you’re going to show people stuff, television is the way to go. Words and pictures show things.” – Bill Nye

“If the Earth gets hit by an asteroid, it’s game over. It’s control-alt-delete for civilization.” – Bill Nye

Dune: Part Two | Soundtrack Cut | Hans Zimmer

Love in the Dungeon, encore

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Weather in the Tries:
Yaaaayyy!!! the days of the coming week will be high 40s and low 50s! WaaHoo! And the nights above freezing. Oh, be still my heart. Well, it can’t be all goodness, I suppose. We do have 3 days with rain on the agenda. Some desert this is turning out to be! I don’t mind the rain all that much, but my short legged friend doesn’t like it at all.

Love in the Dungeon, encore:
It must be the coming of Valentine’s Day, but I’ve been thinking of my days at Couch School in Portland, Oregon. Probably because I recently listened to a book, Lucky Supreme, that takes place in Portland, and the narrator pronounced Couch Street as Cowch Street. Uh, no. It really is Cooch Street. Anyhow, here is an encore read for you. Please enjoy it all over again for the first time.

Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard

Love in the Dungeon

–by Lenora Rain-Lee Good

In 1951 I was about to enter third grade when Mother announced we were moving. Again. This time to an apartment in Northwest Portland, Oregon, where I entered Couch School. I learned many things while at Couch, the first being to pronounce it ‘kootch’ not ‘cowtch’ – even though it was spelled like something to sit on–after all, we didn’t sit on the school; we sat in the school.

Couch School, built in 1914, was one of four elementary schools in Portland, Oregon to contain an official school-board-sanctioned dungeon in its basement—with an Olympic sized swimming pool, into which all students were forcedto descend for weekly swimming lessons. Water terrified me. I did not enjoy playing in water deeper than my ankles. The lifeguard, rather than instilling confidence, instilled Terror, with a capital ‘T.’ I remained terrified of both the water and the lifeguard, and refused to learn how to swim. People would walk on the moon before I would learn to swim! Had I been a gambler, you could have made book on that statement!

Summer came, school emptied, and Mother and I moved. Again. This time to a small apartment only two blocks from Couch, so I didn’t have to give up my friends. By summer’s end, every kid I knew looked forward to returning to school, and structure, and learning–even me. But I did not look forward to the swimming lessons.

Too soon, the dreaded day came. Once again, I had to descend the dark brown stairs to the dank and smelly dungeon. Once again, I must face the dreaded lifeguard and her insistence that I learn to swim. Barely holding back tears, I joined my eager classmates, descended the steps to the girl’s locker room, squirmed into my hideous flowered swimsuit, showered, and prepared to face the she-devil in the pool area.

To my delight, a new devil awaited my arrival. There, by the pool, stood Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard. In my young body hormones began to stir, albeit sluggishly. I gazed upon the young Apollo, and fell in love. If Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard had asked, I would have jumped into either end of the pool and walked the full length to emerge at the other end. Fortunately, he didn’t ask.

But he did ask me to learn to swim, and with great patience he taught, and I learned. I assume he taught my classmates, but don’t know that for a fact as I remained blissfully unaware of them. I saw and heard only my beloved, my first love, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard.

As weeks passed, I discovered he was single. Now, this was a good news-bad news type of situation. Yes, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was single, but I was no dummy. I knew I faced years of growth before he would even consider marrying me. But, O Joy! Mother was single. I began to plot. How could I introduce Mother to Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard? Especially since Mother also feared the water.

Then, one day, my dearly beloved announced to the class he would teach a Thursday evening Beginning Swimming class for adults. The solution to my problem. Mother couldn’t swim.

I begged, I wheedled, I whined, and I even shed some tears, until Mother, more fearful of water than I, agreed to take the classes. Harvey Anderson, wise to the teasing ways of his young students, locked the doors so we couldn’t come in and laugh at our floundering parents. Therefore, I missed the long-anticipated meeting of Mother and Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard. How transparent my childish machinations must have been to those adults, as they tolerated my feeble attempts at matchmaking.

Mother did learn to swim, but unlike me, she never enjoyed it. Once I could swim, and knew Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard (I always think of him with full name and title. Yes, even today.) would save me should I need saving, I became a water child they had to run out of the pool at closing time.

To me, Mother had always been young and beautiful. To me, Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was handsome and old. In reality, there were far more years between them, with Mother by far the eldest, than between Harvey and me. When romance between them failed to bloom, my heart broke. Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard would not be my dad, and he was way too old to be my boyfriend, and way too young to be her husband. I found solace in swimming and in visiting the library for more and ever more books.

Years later, Mother and I had many chuckles over this love lost. Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard moved from Couch, as did Mother and I. Mother re-married, I grew up. Mother grew old and died, and now I am also old, and lie alone in my bed at night surrounded by my beloved books, and wonder if Harvey Anderson, once a Lifeguard and a Heart Throb, ever thinks back to the time one of his students tried to marry him off to her mother and smiles. I hope he smiles.

∞

About this memoir: Harvey Anderson, Lifeguard was originally published in a now defunct blog under the title Days at Couch. I did track down Harvey Anderson to send him a copy only to discover he had died a couple years before I wrote it. Couch School is still in Portland, but is now an office building. I wonder if the pool is maintained and used or if it was filled in and is now used for additional office space? Wouldn’t you like to work in an office building with a bona fide dungeon in the basement? and a pool? I would. Hmmm, I wonder if there are ghosts? or dragons?

Photo of the Week:
Fibonacci Sequence, pattern by Carolina Oneto https://carolinaoneto.com This is easy enough for a beginner, it is 32” square.

From the Paws of the Big Chihuahua:
the ice is melting, and the snow is disappearing. the days are warmer but the wind is still cold. this dog still likes naps, especially when my human snuggles with me. the sun comes out from hiding more often now. my human says winter won’t last much longer. maybe two more months. like what does that mean? how long is a month. and she says this year is a leap year. do I have to leap? how far? when? why? as long as I don’t have to leap into the ducks pond…