tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109490412024-03-07T01:49:39.360-08:00Lelo in NopoLeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.comBlogger1437125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-65078696542552453162020-03-20T07:02:00.001-07:002020-03-20T07:02:33.187-07:00A different kind of garden dreamingWhere to even begin? It's March 2020 and the world is a different place, but the natural world moves on. The daphne is still blooming, the daffodils are going strong, and buds on everything are beginning to swell and open. Spring waits for no one. And it's such a respite right now. To see every small thing, to notice, to honor, to take a breath, and be grateful for this one, small moment. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When we are living in a continuous wave of crashing news, pandemonium, fear and danger, the simplicity of what's right in front of us: our breath, our feet on the earth, the flowers or trees or birds, give us grounding. I've been going to our parks, forests, and neighborhood walks to find solace and to catch my breath. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0B8oUHifJA8Twjp-hMMchZppHVnLN3N-A2yTNvkkfjc6M2OuO-f4z9VzV8IfuM64yT6opyl49r0xV5wwha4gGeOWh09o2hqV35icxCR_YOsqfO1yHXUzrzcrDc3UI1Gtzf-yiQ/s1600/IMG_4776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0B8oUHifJA8Twjp-hMMchZppHVnLN3N-A2yTNvkkfjc6M2OuO-f4z9VzV8IfuM64yT6opyl49r0xV5wwha4gGeOWh09o2hqV35icxCR_YOsqfO1yHXUzrzcrDc3UI1Gtzf-yiQ/s320/IMG_4776.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">My favorite tree is blooming. (oh who am I kidding? I have a million favorite trees, but this is a favorite. It has been cared for so well through the years. Thank you Gus, for taking care of your tree for all of us to enjoy it.) </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkuQXSROy64ulShgrOEmsXDn21skIJm1xQJlGv-v6z9j3-wPARq-ajWxp_7UzJ5eoT4kB-en6vodrTJ3AUwmV9Av1gI4_fDnx_Tir89BY8wOlbefLk-GlU3IQhSYryTJ5efkCWg/s1600/ACS_0560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJkuQXSROy64ulShgrOEmsXDn21skIJm1xQJlGv-v6z9j3-wPARq-ajWxp_7UzJ5eoT4kB-en6vodrTJ3AUwmV9Av1gI4_fDnx_Tir89BY8wOlbefLk-GlU3IQhSYryTJ5efkCWg/s320/ACS_0560.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The forsythia holds and emits the morning light. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XrDf3MS7Dz5g3lA7WpB8Mgqy8v8rVVHq4z466GA_-MgF9H4ieXBqSk1NWyZyqhYnKuckZEJUrxqCgAXlSZ9AVtNsMIHNangFgrWZJ00xXQHuIdI_wt7Qo5v9jze3omvN8zXnGw/s1600/IMG_4741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XrDf3MS7Dz5g3lA7WpB8Mgqy8v8rVVHq4z466GA_-MgF9H4ieXBqSk1NWyZyqhYnKuckZEJUrxqCgAXlSZ9AVtNsMIHNangFgrWZJ00xXQHuIdI_wt7Qo5v9jze3omvN8zXnGw/s320/IMG_4741.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And the 50+ crocus we planted in the grass are blooming their heads off. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEtyD7OTZNv0oPMFxbjvjVxW0Z2WiN8P20Yd8aYGBV0utuIU28z5DjfGkNAHOo2UYJ2Pn9r01960zkzJhXfpo8QBIOWWvgNrgTdAKE9ywFgZkwN5s9xvalrFEeuHikjdncKZLQw/s1600/IMG_4797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEtyD7OTZNv0oPMFxbjvjVxW0Z2WiN8P20Yd8aYGBV0utuIU28z5DjfGkNAHOo2UYJ2Pn9r01960zkzJhXfpo8QBIOWWvgNrgTdAKE9ywFgZkwN5s9xvalrFEeuHikjdncKZLQw/s320/IMG_4797.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I've yet to dig into the garden in these past days (that feel like weeks and months): frozen in fear, dismay, and kept inside by housepainters working on the exterior of our house. But I'm not sure what I'm going to do this year in the garden. I know it's becoming a major focus, both because it's seasonally time for it to be, and because I need it right now. <i>We need it. </i>I garden for myself, my love, my neighbors, and for all who walk past it. It's a place to receive and to give. It's a place to connect with the earth, my spirit, and to practice loving kindness. And I know I'm writing again here. So hello again. <i>Hello. </i></div>
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-71557935426193787382018-04-11T11:52:00.000-07:002018-04-11T11:52:19.463-07:00Caught up in the spring gardening frenzy?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcNf0kzAnOKTNd2JS-HJ-q6qhJVSq1tOmZjikMI8-g0HIK5n7N61084jVY5U-Hd8ytiM__9EuTLeqrgdaV-mVPQBYvhG_gcWXNqd43telj6JDGW0YkFK0f6OxHWonPb0nFn_SGcQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2018-04-11+at+11.49.25+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="760" data-original-width="607" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcNf0kzAnOKTNd2JS-HJ-q6qhJVSq1tOmZjikMI8-g0HIK5n7N61084jVY5U-Hd8ytiM__9EuTLeqrgdaV-mVPQBYvhG_gcWXNqd43telj6JDGW0YkFK0f6OxHWonPb0nFn_SGcQ/s400/Screen+Shot+2018-04-11+at+11.49.25+AM.png" width="318" /></a></div>
<br />
You know you're caught up in the spring gardening frenzy and all of its focus and excitement, when the first thing you think as you see this beautiful photo of the King of Pop, Michael Jackson, is "What's that plant?"LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-57926071014093420502017-11-21T14:59:00.000-08:002017-11-21T14:59:22.817-08:00Why Eugene Schieffelin was a jerk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFoymgmzNWlQELEnlc6Xic0hb5lFE32jmHAD9lxKIjRkeB6kcIogwDKG_m2BSAQz3_53w0H6S4UnAneg8deg9MGuD940ZHXzR3-otKmOlELA6wrw_SHB8P7J0vUTacPbUeKJV4Gw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2017-11-21+at+2.57.35+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="1025" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFoymgmzNWlQELEnlc6Xic0hb5lFE32jmHAD9lxKIjRkeB6kcIogwDKG_m2BSAQz3_53w0H6S4UnAneg8deg9MGuD940ZHXzR3-otKmOlELA6wrw_SHB8P7J0vUTacPbUeKJV4Gw/s400/Screen+Shot+2017-11-21+at+2.57.35+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
It's November and as the leaves fall from the Harlequin glorybower tree in our garden, the bright magenta calyxes and vivid turquoise berries become more apparent against the grey sky. They're pretty, but only stay so long now that the starlings have found them.<br />
<br />
Flocks of these invasive dirty birds descend upon the tree, gobbling up their fading fall beauty, the last show of color in the garden for the year. I raise the window to shoo them off, hoping to keep the starlings at bay for a few days.<br />
<br />
I usually welcome birds to the garden, putting out food and nectar to feed and attract songbird and hummingbirds. I've seen bright yellow chickadees, red breasted robins, Northern flickers and the resident blue jays, to name but a few.<br />
<br />
The European Starlings are nasty, brutal birds, known to snatch songbirds and their babies, like cannibals and to bully birds out of their nests in hostile nest takeovers. Not native to the United States, starlings were brought here by Eugene Schieffelin when he released sixty of them in New York City's Central Park. It was part of his effort to introduce all of the birds mentioned in the plays of Shakespeare to the United States.<br />
<br />
When I see the starlings devastating the beauty of my Harlequin glorybower tree, I throw up the windows and shout "dirty, dirty birds" and they fly away. What I should be shouting is "thanks for nothing, Eugene Schieffelin."<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I've written a lot about these trees over the years. You can read more <a href="http://www.lelonopo.com/2010/09/those-trees-youre-smelling-all-over.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.lelonopo.com/2009/10/posie-for-you-and-some-love-for-my.html" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.lelonopo.com/2007/11/here-come-bushtits.html" target="_blank">here</a> too. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>You can read more about jerkface Shieffelin <a href="https://psmag.com/environment/shakespeare-fanatic-introduced-bards-birds-america-82279" target="_blank">here</a>. </i></span><br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-2058897029158171042017-06-12T11:20:00.001-07:002017-06-12T11:20:12.881-07:00When someone is damaging your garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0XJITSY-2MTK0UZITQdrlRHN33YPITz0Wf-o6T_zISN6mxnnQK6QtHA2qDiBq1AevuAxUrAHka8FJhONk8hyphenhyphenZjplWt_Ytv1j3fWp6w2urNuk9uVpiUdzMsihhKXHV-z7HsLa5Q/s1600/IMG_7648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="1600" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH0XJITSY-2MTK0UZITQdrlRHN33YPITz0Wf-o6T_zISN6mxnnQK6QtHA2qDiBq1AevuAxUrAHka8FJhONk8hyphenhyphenZjplWt_Ytv1j3fWp6w2urNuk9uVpiUdzMsihhKXHV-z7HsLa5Q/s640/IMG_7648.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
She was the last person I expected. Someone was damaging our garden. Breaking off branches. Lopping off flower heads. Pulling plants out of the ground. And then leaving them on the sidewalk or on the ground to whither and die. I imagined it being done facetiously by kids passing by. Maybe showing off to their friends, or just being inconsiderate and always needing to touch things.<br />
<br />
But I learned it wasn't kids. And it was being done with anger and maliciousness.<br />
<br />
I'd been working in the garden on a hot summer morning when she walked by with her dog. A neighbor woman I didn't know by name, but I knew her dogs name and recognized her from her daily walks. Never friendly, I always take these ones as a good challenge. To engage, open up, and find a little common ground and break through a gruff exterior to the sweetness underneath. I waved and said good morning, pausing in the waist high flower bed I was in, weeding, welcoming the opportunity to stand up straight for a moment, stretch my back and squint into the sun towards her. "It's a jungle in there" she said. I didn't note any humor in her voice, but instead, disdain. I laughed and agreed, because I really love jungles, and living in one would be a dream. I offered that in the hot weather we were having (weather is always a good safe topic) it keeps our house nice and cool. She scoffed a bit, and complained how hot her house is. I silently reminded myself her house is bare of trees and shrubs, but lots of asphalt parking and creosote timbers forming beds for strongly pruned hybrid tea roses. She continued on her walk and I returned to my work, bent over deep in my jungle, attempting to rid the flower bed of unwanted spindly weeds and grass.<br />
<br />
A few weeks went by, and the damage to our street trees and plants along the sidewalk continued. It was frustrating. I wondered if pedestrians were being harassed by our plants, and took it upon myself to better prune and clean up along the walkways. We mowed, edged and blowed it clear. It cleaned up nice. It was nice before, in my opinion, but I wanted to be a good neighbor and make walking by good for everyone.<br />
<br />
But then one day I heard it. The breaking off of branches in the garden. I caught my breath. This was the moment I'd catch the kids red handed. I'd march out there and give them a piece of my mind. Jerks. But then I saw her and her dog. The gruff neighbor who had scoffed at our jungle was the one doing the damage. I couldn't believe it. It was malicious and my hunch was right: it was being done on purpose. My heart sank a little. With sadness for what I thought was such a beautiful place, our garden, for all people to enjoy. It's a respite for wildlife, for visiting kids, and for us. And sadness for a person who walks this world with so much anger she rips at the things she passes. She wasn't a happy woman.<br />
<br />
I was getting into my car the following week, and there she was on her walk with her dog. She saw me but pretended not to. I called out "hello there!" and waved, cheerily. She was forced to mumble something in return. I continued to engage with her. "We cleaned up the walkway really well over here! I hadn't realized it had become overgrown. And you know, I saw you the other day," I said to her. I imagined the blank stare coming my way from behind her sunglasses. I gestured to ripping and breaking while I continued, "I saw you breaking off our plants here in our garden, I want you to know I saw you, and I need to ask you to not do that again. If we need to prune things back, just let me know, but please stop it." She was dumbfounded. I smiled and wished her a good day as I got in the car. I meant it. I hoped she could find some beauty in her day, because her life must be pretty hard being angry all of the time. Can you imagine the dialogue that must go through her head? I wish her peace. The garden gives me enough of it to share with others, I'd just rather not do it through broken branches and lopped off flower heads, but instead through kindness, shared conversation, or a simple hello, neighbor.LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-58818320082496505642017-05-24T09:41:00.000-07:002017-05-24T09:55:37.091-07:00A gift the garden gave me todayI wrote a little something the other day to a friend, about the gifts the garden is giving this time of year.<br />
<br />
<b><i> So much to be done. </i></b><br />
Having longer days, full of sunshine, to do it in.<br />
It's coming alive, and so am I. I breathe deeply, hold, and exhale deeply.<br />
<br />
If I do a long scan on the garden, the list of to-dos is endless. When I begin to pull weeds and unwanted seedlings (aren't unwanted seedlings weeds, et tu brute?) I can feel the anxiousness rise in my chest. My eyes dart a little further to the left and right, and the work is overwhelming. <b><i>So much. </i></b>How can I possibly get all of this done? In the past, I've just given up and walked away, telling myself my garden is a cottage garden, meant to be imperfect and flouncy. But that's giving in to it.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I found myself head down in a bed full of weeds and errant tall grass (ugh!), and I talked myself down. "Stay in your lane, stay present, stay right here with only what's in front of you." And I smiled. These are life skills. When my workload is full, I stay with just one item on my list and focus only on that. And so it is in the garden. I stayed present. I smiled to myself. I only did what was immediately in front of me, and not with anxious frustration, but with gratitude for recognizing what was going on. The gift is to be present, right then and there. To rid just that 3x3 foot section of the numerous seeded daisies, grass and unnamed weeds (those ones with elastic roots). To feel the sunshine on my shoulders, the needed stretch in my tight lower back, and a life that affords me a work break to spend this time in the middle of the morning on a weekday in my garden. This gift was so much better than this morning's gift a stranger left in our parking strip: an overflowing dirty diaper.LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-2943253829164861632017-05-23T07:11:00.000-07:002017-05-23T07:11:38.537-07:00When karma delivers the unexpectedTwo weeks ago one evening, AdRi jumped from her chair in the living room and out the front door. Two boys had ridden their bikes through our front garden, and not carefully, either. Of course they didn't stop when she called out to them, and the fritillaria that was preparing to bloom was toppled and smashed, plowed over by their flying-through-the-air BMX bikes. She brought in the blooms and they've been slowly opening in a vase on the kitchen counter.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to last evening.<br />
<br />
We were working in the garden, and heard the familiar sound of a lawnmower being pushed down the street. Two kids were offering their services, door to door, for mowing lawns. Funny thing, they seemed to not be coming up to our house with a sales pitch. Hell yes I want someone to mow the exterior of our house: it's a pain. We live on a corner, and beyond the garden, the only grass besides a small backyard patch is the unwieldy green mane in the front and side along the sidewalk. Being Spring in Portland, it grows about 5 inches a week. And I'm not overstating that. "$20?" they offered. "$10" AdRi countered. And they had a deal.<br />
<br />
After they finished, they may have been asked if they were the same boys who had ridden their bikes through our garden. They may have looked stunned and like two deer caught in the headlights of a car at midnight on a dark country highway. They may have said of course it wasn't them. We may have known it was exactly them. And we may or may not have two BMX bikes smash through our garden again. We'll see.LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-75517464102712839172015-03-24T09:36:00.000-07:002015-03-24T09:36:15.879-07:00Earthquakes are a constant22 years ago today I awoke early and abruptly, but familiarly. An earthquake was shaking my futon, and having recently moved from California, I knew exactly what it was. Strange though, I thought I had left those behind when I moved to Oregon. It was a light one, and I went back to sleep. But my phone rang. Students at the conservative Christian college who had never left Oregon were shaken and scared, bewildered by what had just happened, calling me as their residence director for answers or I-don't-know-what, support? It was Spring Break, and only a few were in the residence halls, but I calmed them down and explained it was a very small quake.<br />
<br />
Having lived in California all my life, this "Spring Break Quake" was a wee one, in my books. My very first memory is of my mother chasing me around in my crib during an earthquake. My crib had wheels and the linoleum floor of my bedroom made the perfect racetrack for a wayward crib in the middle of the San Fernando Earthquake. That one, at 6.6, was a rocker, shaker and a roller, and we didn't live far from the epicenter. In my memory, I'm standing in my crib, holding on to the frame, and my mom in her nightgown is chasing after the crib as it rolls across the floor.<br />
<br />
Duck and Cover was a familiar drill at school in earthquake preparation, instilling a fear of those big plate glass windows that gave us views of the Southern California sunshine and eucalyptus trees. At home, we ran to a nearby doorframe, most often awaken from sleep. If we weren't sure if it was an earthquake or not, I knew to look at a hanging light fixture to see if it was swaying: that was the tell-tale sign of an earthquake. After a rocker, dad would check the ceiling crack in the dining room to see if it had grown. I suppose it was our own personal richter scale.<br />
<br />
In October of 1989, I was deep in the basement studios of the communication building at Chico State, working in an audio booth, manually slicing reel-to-reel for my radio production course. When I left my soundproof studio, the air felt tense in the hallways, and something had changed. I heard "earthquake" mentioned and knew it had been a large one. Most of my fellow students at Chico were from the Bay area, and the Loma Prieta earthquake of 1989 was a major one. For days, television news was constant and run from backup generators in the studios, the reporters wearing the same clothes and eventually becoming frazzled. Phonelines were down, and reaching family was difficult for many of the students. The quake was captured live on television during the World Series at Candlestick Park, and the images of the Bay Bridge buckled and warped will be forever in my mind. Aftershocks hit for quite sometime in the following months and years, waking me from my sleep with sharp jolts, and sometimes even rolls. My last California quake hit Ferndale in 1992, and even in Chico we felt it. Later that same year, I moved north to Portland, a land of moss, rain, thinking I had left the earthquakes of my first 25 years behind.<br />
<br />
My first winter here, it snowed epic amounts, much to my surprise, and in the spring, the ground shook with a 5.6 earthquake. As I admired for the first time the giant magnolias blooming, I gazed up at brick chimneys crumbled by the quake. As daffodils and tulips bloomed in the vivid green environment I was newly experiencing, I saw the melding of my past and my present, and realized that the earthquakes had followed me. They will always be a part of my life. LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-3392115818668422012014-12-11T10:58:00.001-08:002014-12-11T10:58:43.496-08:00It's Time to Climb a Mountain<div style="text-align:left; width:450px;" data-bindattr-102="102">
<object class="myWidget" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://www.blurb.com/assets/embed.swf" height="300" width="450" data-bindattr-103="103">
<param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param>
<param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param>
<param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"></param>
<param name="movie" value="http://www.blurb.com/assets/embed.swf" data-bindattr-104="104"></param>
<param name="FlashVars" value="book_id=5851313&locale=en_US" data-bindattr-105="105"></param>
<a data-bindattr-106="106" target="_new">
<img src="http://www.blurb.com/images/uploads2/catalog/000/301/030/6297714-3c1bcfbeda4c39c1140b655e52a84104.jpg" data-bindattr-107="107"/>
</a>
</object>
<script id='metamorph-503-start' type='text/x-placeholder'></script>
<div>
<a href="http://blur.by/12RLNKI" data-bindattr-108="108" style="margin:12px 3px;" target="_blank"><script id='metamorph-504-start' type='text/x-placeholder'></script>It's Time to Climb a Mountain<script id='metamorph-504-end' type='text/x-placeholder'></script> by <script id='metamorph-505-start' type='text/x-placeholder'></script>LeAnn Locher<script id='metamorph-505-end' type='text/x-placeholder'></script></a>
|
<a href="http://www.blurb.com/landing_pages/bookshow" data-bindattr-109="109" style="margin:12px 3px;" target="_blank"><script id='metamorph-506-start' type='text/x-placeholder'></script>Make Your Own Book<script id='metamorph-506-end' type='text/x-placeholder'></script></a>
</div>
<script id='metamorph-503-end' type='text/x-placeholder'></script>
</div>LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-31570865296894042932014-09-08T06:30:00.000-07:002014-09-08T06:30:01.526-07:00Acceptance, body love, and self compassion. Also, I climbed a $%$&#* mountain. I could write for days about my love/hate relationship with my body. My weight has been an all-consuming aspect of my head space my entire life. Dieting since a single digit age, I learned self judgement was harsh and acceptance by others would be gauged upon if I was a fat kid or not. Whether or not this was true of my external circumstances, it doesn't matter. It's what my mind internally told me.<br />
<br />
Beginning as a young adult, I have gained weight, lost weight, gained weight and lost weight, numerous times. I have never been a skinny person. But I have been in the BMI rankings of very obese. Hell, I may be there now. I don't look at those rankings anymore. You name the diet, I have done it. I just know it's a lifelong struggle, and it's tied up in an emotional bundle with lots of strings and bows and tape around it.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, after training for months, I climbed the third tallest mountain in Oregon. South Sister has an elevation gain of over 4,500 feet, and the 12 mile hike was a beast. But I had trained for the 14 hour hike. The day after the climb, I did some reflection on what I had accomplished, and felt a huge boulder off my shoulders that I had been carrying my whole life. Most of that boulder consisted of shame. Instead, I found myself so proud of my body, my strength, muscles, endurance, and ability to climb a fucking mountain. Did you know I climbed so high I could see to California and to Washington, from the center of Oregon itself? And it was my body that got me there. <i>My. Body.</i> There is no shame in that accomplishment.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFuRgV4PFw4Pql1OPG0LNgp7Cj7gbJwAdMNEJF5_jD1Oqd4RukI0XAvi9dVeVJE8vXcKlKb-O7niHh1miqYF0LpLzHbMvDoRsdEzTfgUp5uRfzOqrJbYz9Io_zn4hMM0jsI6R_A/s1600/MountainClimb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFuRgV4PFw4Pql1OPG0LNgp7Cj7gbJwAdMNEJF5_jD1Oqd4RukI0XAvi9dVeVJE8vXcKlKb-O7niHh1miqYF0LpLzHbMvDoRsdEzTfgUp5uRfzOqrJbYz9Io_zn4hMM0jsI6R_A/s1600/MountainClimb.png" height="316" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
A few days after the climb, it was hot, and we went for a run. I chose a snug fitting tank top and shorts. It shows off my curves, but also doesn't leave much to the imagination. I looked at myself in the mirror before I left, and I said to myself, "That is the body of a woman who climbed a mother fucking mountain. Hell yeah." And out the door I went. Air on my skin, sunshine on my shoulders, that was the most confident run (okay, it was part walk too) I've done in some time. I didn't care about what anyone else thought, I just knew I felt good. That outing wasn't full of a mind wondering if my shorts were too short or if my arm fat jiggled or if my stomach was too big for the shirt. I was present in the moment. This, was a huge change.<br />
<br />
I've been taking Pilates classes, sessions with a close friend and just the instructor, a woman I've known for over a decade. I absolutely love these workouts. They stretch, lengthen, and use a variety of movements that align the spine and strengthen my core. Some movements I can do like a champ, bending into advanced positions even. Some I can barely do, or not at all, either because my arm length or proportion or body ability or take your pick reason. But you know what? My inner voice on this doesn't give a rat's ass that I can't do all of the movements. If my past self, from a few years ago, were to be in this situation, the self-talk I would berate myself with for not being able to do a position would be so deafening I would have fled and never returned to the class. I would have internally flogged myself for my fat body not able to do what I could do if only I was skinnier. Instead, I recognize it for what it is: not all bodies are the same, and this body climbed a mother fucking mountain and so what if I can't walk my hands down my calves while balancing in a V position on a reformer with my legs up at a 45 degree angle? Check out what I can do:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1ujydQFVwrgD4OiIfBMtX941H6WXb4y586sJWoLqjY03iHeyXKec6V6DBXoNuBeYngcIgPHbjtoMTOI3ziLLe5ntTaBSCzoa4Jd5FIWluDoUiH2a-2_v0uqmxclPHQ1eUSGAmQ/s1600/Pilates!.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1ujydQFVwrgD4OiIfBMtX941H6WXb4y586sJWoLqjY03iHeyXKec6V6DBXoNuBeYngcIgPHbjtoMTOI3ziLLe5ntTaBSCzoa4Jd5FIWluDoUiH2a-2_v0uqmxclPHQ1eUSGAmQ/s1600/Pilates!.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This change in self talk is me, in my mid-40s finally experiencing body acceptance and self love. There will always be work to do, and being healthy requires self care, time, attention and prioritizing. I'm giving that to my body, and my mind is finally responding. It's coming through positive affirmations, not through shaming or negative self talk.<br />
<br />
And by the way? I climbed a mother fucking mountain.<br />
<br />
P.S. My upcoming column at <a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/perspectives/cultivating-life" target="_blank">PQ Monthly</a> will chronicle my climb, the amazing group of women I trained and climbed with, and the story of getting to the top, despite altitude sickness. I'll share a link here when it's published. The women I train with are the <a href="http://missfitadventures.com/" target="_blank">Miss Fits</a>, and we're led by the compassionate super hero, Nikki Becker.<br />
<br />
P.P.S. If you're in the Portland area and are interested in exploring Pilates with a wonderful, insightful instructor in a sweet studio, visit Jodi at <a href="http://bloompilatespdx.com/" target="_blank">Bloom Pilates and Wellness</a>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgly5JYd4Xx-7VNinnxCR4KEF6MpXzRc7iE_HDRv-tlxhrlnBjvOE5IFzpcuceIEbsRt-jtojXWLwjBkGJyLD-otoXOdKUADHSFB1SLrQ5HkSy2a-CS7AhZqSyaq9dmFictm9vsUQ/s1600/DSCN0834.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgly5JYd4Xx-7VNinnxCR4KEF6MpXzRc7iE_HDRv-tlxhrlnBjvOE5IFzpcuceIEbsRt-jtojXWLwjBkGJyLD-otoXOdKUADHSFB1SLrQ5HkSy2a-CS7AhZqSyaq9dmFictm9vsUQ/s1600/DSCN0834.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-51484877930298132702014-09-05T07:00:00.000-07:002014-09-05T07:00:02.090-07:00The Hardy Hibiscus That CouldFive or more years ago, I found myself at a local nursery on Mother's Day. They had a nice selection of Hibiscus hardy to my Zone 8, and I began to swoon.<br />
<br />
I had to have one.<br />
<br />
It was cool and rainy, not at all yet into the warmth of summer, and the dream of hibiscus swirled all around my head. I had grown up with a giant red hibiscus on our back patio, and the blooms were the quintessential flowers to tuck behind your ear if you'd like to do a hula dance. <i>Mahalo</i>.<br />
<br />
You would think I proudly carried that hibiscus home, dug a hole after finding the perfect spot, amended the soil, and planted it carefully. You would be wrong. It sat in its nursery pot on our back patio for two years. It appeared dead. I tried to not look at it. It was a sign of my gardening failure, I was sure of it. It shamed me every time I walked by it, but yet, I didn't trash it.<br />
<br />
And then, after two years of looking dead as a doorknob, it showed growth at its base. Oh my god it was alive!<br />
<br />
I finally planted it, in a full sun spot right in our front bed. It sat there, dying to the ground every winter, sending up stems in the summer, for two years. Never a bloom. Always a bridesmaid. It wasn't encroaching on anyone, and I let it do its own little thing for three or four years. Pretty leaves. Never big. Meh.<br />
<br />
You know what's coming next, right? This year, it bloomed. And it didn't just do a little bloom, it produced massive, giant blooms, multiple times, for several weeks.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="320" mozallowfullscreen="" msallowfullscreen="" oallowfullscreen="" src="https://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/14951440897/player/" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="320"></iframe><br />
The blooms were as big as the plant itself. What a showstopper. It's amazing it didn't flop like those top heavy peonies. These hibiscus stems are strong, and hold their blooms up for all to see. "Pfffftttt to those peonies," I'm sure they say.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="320" mozallowfullscreen="" msallowfullscreen="" oallowfullscreen="" src="https://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/14951313809/in/photostream/player/" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="320"></iframe><br />
I don't know if the plant will get much larger. But I'm sure proud of what it did this year, and that I never gave up on it. Even after all of the neglect I put it through. I just needed to be patient.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-34792954249176393732014-09-03T21:00:00.000-07:002014-09-03T21:00:17.473-07:00How you doin'?<div class="MsoNormal">
In the past week I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>ve had four friends
mention this long lost blog to me. Missing stories, asking about recipes,
wondering why I haven<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>t written here. These
mentions have been in person, with friends close and near. I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>ve
asked, <span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">“</span>What would I write about?<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">”</span> as I haven<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>t been so much of a hard
driving home arts badass this year. Confession time:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I</span><span lang="JA" style="font-family: 'MS 明朝', serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">’</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">ve done zero canning this
year.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">My tomato harvest is minimal.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">One of my raised vegetable beds in the front
consists of zinnias grown for cutting and a volunteer pumpkin. (I did one of
those <a href="http://i481.photobucket.com/albums/rr172/theglennturner/VomitingJackOLantern.jpg" target="_blank">vomiting jack-o-lanterns last Halloween</a> and the plethora of seeds must
have made their way into the bed.)</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I pay a housekeeping service to clean my house
these days.</span></li>
<li><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I spend more of my time in outdoor adventures
and with friends than I do in homemaking.</span> </li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
But I realize in my conversations with
these friends, it<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s just the stories of life that
they ask about. And I suppose I still have those. Plenty, I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>m
sure. And I still value the beauty and place of home, and our garden, very much
so. I suppose my life view has broadened some, to include more and to adventure
more. To risk more, to try new things more. And really, that<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s
where my love of the home arts began. With trying something new and delving
into a part of my life that I held at arm<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s length. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
I think about the stories I have for you,
to share here. From growing my business, to exploring recipes to support weight
loss, to learning to love new things like spinning class or dragon boat
paddling, to pushing myself to new levels of mountain climbing and running. To
losing weight and gaining weight and losing weight and figuring out exactly how
I feel about my body and what I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>m capable of. Did I
mention Pilates? It<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s my new love. And then there<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s all of the wonderful young people in my life these
days. I am indeed, a very proud <i>Nina</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
And there<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s
this evening<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s lovely recipe, completely made
up, using roasted cherry tomatoes from the garden, topping chicken breasts
stuffed with a mushroom/chèvre/garlic/basil combination. It was delicious, by
the way. And super healthy. (For me, these days, super healthy equates low
carb. <a href="http://nyti.ms/1pjKjg2" target="_blank">Did you see that NY Times article?</a>) <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
So I suppose I may have stories to share. I
just thought I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>d check in here, say hello and
let you know I miss you. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin-top:0in;
mso-para-margin-right:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:10.0pt;
mso-para-margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Cambria","serif";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-language:JA;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
Getting back to basics, this isn<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>t a blog filled with sponsored posts or sales writing
of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>items sent to me to review, or
fill-in-the-blank any description of so many of today<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s
blogs (ugh, what happened?). It<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>s just a personal blog, begun in
2005, anonymously, and as a personal journey and journal. Hey 2014, nine years
later, how you doin<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>? I<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span>m
doin<span lang="JA" style="font-family: "MS 明朝","serif"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "MS 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast;">’</span> fine. <o:p></o:p></div>
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-79128460330973485842013-05-17T08:53:00.000-07:002013-05-17T08:53:17.273-07:00Of writing, memories and magic time<br />
Hey, what happened to my blog? I used to write about gardening, canning, cooking and things here. I suppose I wrote about them because there were so few others who were too. But today the web is thick with full time talented bloggers taking gorgeous photos of their food, crafting wonderful recipes, gardening every day and writing plenty of how-tos. I love reading them. I think blogging has been a way for me to document my own learning and discovery, and I refer to my own blog when I'm trying to find a favorite recipe. Like spinach enchiladas. Or scones. But the newness has settled, I suppose: it isn't 2005 anymore.<br />
<br />
Writing my monthly column over at PQ Monthly has helped me focus my editorial voice a bit, while growing to include my work with personal essays. And that's where my heart's at. This tapping into my inner voice, and allowing it to flow through my fingers onto the screen. I journey through memories of scent, feelings, explorations and emotions. I love when the stories come easily, but respect that it's not all of the time. When they do come, it's early in the morning, when the world is quiet, and my foggy brain from sleeping begins to awaken with a cup of coffee. It's before I do my to-do list, or speak a single word that day, or venture out into the world. I'm most in touch with my inner voice then, and perhaps my dreaming mind. I wonder if it's a transition from slumber to alert that makes for these times.<br />
<br />
Whatever it is, I respect it. It was in this time I wrote my most recent column, joining memories of a childhood place with current explorations in the forests of Oregon. And a haunting photo of a conejo—rabbit—being rescued from a wildfire in Southern California. <a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/cultivating-life-hiking-with-the-conejos/14562" target="_blank">You can read it here. </a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8707233827/" title="2600 elevation climb to this view of the gorge. We are so lucky to live in this land. by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="2600 elevation climb to this view of the gorge. We are so lucky to live in this land." height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8403/8707233827_b026951cc9.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8667878179/" title="Dripping moss wall by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Dripping moss wall" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8404/8667878179_5a9115fc81.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8624256629/" title="Good morning by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Good morning" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8259/8624256629_e9e3d68111.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8626519450/" title="Furry trees I like to pet #oregon by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Furry trees I like to pet #oregon" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8383/8626519450_0168eab6c3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-28607462405924947452013-05-06T09:42:00.001-07:002013-05-06T09:42:30.337-07:00Quick fix gardeningIs there such as thing as a quick fix when it comes to gardening? A friend was lamenting last night to me about weeds growing in and among river rock. We determined they're experiencing both deep rooted weeds growing from underneath the river rock, and annual weeds blown in by seed atop the surface area. It's a messy situation with no easy answer. I'm not fond of delivering that news. But it's something I've come to realize the more I garden.<br />
<br />
It's the same with the ab buster or thigh master. If you want a six pack or thighs of steel, it's going to take hard work, not a gimmick.<br />
<br />
And thus <a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/cultivating-life-gimmicks-arent-for-gardeners/13911" target="_blank">my latest column over at PQ Monthly</a> is out and about, themed this month about tools and items that are must-haves in the garden, and those that are a big waste of money and time. <a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/cultivating-life-gimmicks-arent-for-gardeners/13911" target="_blank">You can read it here.</a><br />
<br />
Save your money, and invest in time spent in the garden. It delivers more than any quick fix. It's also good for your soul, mind and body. Remind me I said that as I curse the sneaky blackberry that returns year after year in the far corner part of the garden, okay?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-10974820027267920302013-04-04T12:07:00.001-07:002013-04-04T13:21:06.000-07:00The crotchety gardener, Pinterest, and meI love Pinterest. I hate Pinterest. Anyone else feel this same duality? Pinterest is filled with images of ridiculous overly twee crafting/recipes/nail art, while delivering visual loads of ideas and eye candy for fashion, design, gardening and the like. Love/hate. I suppose it's really about curation, a word I have come to love more and more.<br />
<br />
I'm finding the negative voice inside of me when viewing many gardening images on Pinterest. The reality of things, and what may look lovely for a photo op, in reality, is ridiculous to maintain, impossible to obtain in the first place, or completely wrong for the climate I live in. It's making me roll my eyes and guffaw out loud at the screen.<br />
<br />
Not wanting to be a negative ninny, I never comment like this on Pinterest. Instead, I'm saving it all for here on my blog. <i>You are welcome.</i><br />
<br />
Let's get to my crotchety gardener review of Pinterest garden-tagged items, shall we?<br />
<br />
<b>How to turn stairs into a death trap:</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWB6DPJyZ72PbpyBDcDLZ0MFc4PXwHNmBtvWE2_gLtTSeY_47HXJi1bo7E7dKOutdwuji_W9E70bLMlnO_RoSBHDQknNPptWzPbs3S8ojNiAp1jzcZOKV7rX5j0C2wikHc75uAfg/s1600/tumblr_mbj2wyb5bN1rntxouo1_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWB6DPJyZ72PbpyBDcDLZ0MFc4PXwHNmBtvWE2_gLtTSeY_47HXJi1bo7E7dKOutdwuji_W9E70bLMlnO_RoSBHDQknNPptWzPbs3S8ojNiAp1jzcZOKV7rX5j0C2wikHc75uAfg/s1600/tumblr_mbj2wyb5bN1rntxouo1_500.png" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1212287477"></span><span id="goog_1212287478"></span><br />
<span id="goog_1212287477"></span><span id="goog_1212287478"></span>Now imagine the reality. After one month, the sedums grow above the step and you break them off every time you descend and ascend the stairs. Aunt Matilda trips on one and breaks a hip, and you spend hours carefully tugging out the weedy clover, popweed and even grass that like to grow in there as well. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Palette gardening and the living wall:</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1anU4u0dL2QK0vPxG1CE5Fg-X470300w3-xG0e5iB7XYMNFwezkyLYHu3gAr0a3DljvkfvW0dQIUEq3nm5T-eqcdxDs8cRUHh8w0C9pqppNrV2v0JRG-omYvLDm19ypIrTMhYQ/s1600/4e8204f132f6b8b07f18e75df8ed68ab.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo1anU4u0dL2QK0vPxG1CE5Fg-X470300w3-xG0e5iB7XYMNFwezkyLYHu3gAr0a3DljvkfvW0dQIUEq3nm5T-eqcdxDs8cRUHh8w0C9pqppNrV2v0JRG-omYvLDm19ypIrTMhYQ/s1600/4e8204f132f6b8b07f18e75df8ed68ab.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
See those tiny areas of soil between the water loving planks of wood? See the plants plucked in there all twee and sweet? Fast forward to a hot, dry summer and you tied to a hose every single ding dong day frantically trying to keep them alive. Don't even think of going away for a few days or you'll return to an UNLIVING wall of dried up, sad plants. <br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Color coordinating your clothing/tools/flowers:</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6AAuptEfvQ9Ei0ikJCMlr-JiK1E5b_RBEJgbi0SWgIm8Qq4KRVngSvAZ_mEb5Mic93UrUgzuu86n1pKn__V4PHlKd3IAKGPA37kjqBuSZ5Q99Z5-RcQ_R94QBOiKxZ-rfB-oNZA/s1600/blue-hyrandrangea-l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6AAuptEfvQ9Ei0ikJCMlr-JiK1E5b_RBEJgbi0SWgIm8Qq4KRVngSvAZ_mEb5Mic93UrUgzuu86n1pKn__V4PHlKd3IAKGPA37kjqBuSZ5Q99Z5-RcQ_R94QBOiKxZ-rfB-oNZA/s1600/blue-hyrandrangea-l.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
I've filed this one under Fakegardening.This cannot be real. You want real? Let's take a photo in my garden...hold on while I take off my mismatched muddy gloves and grab my neon orange handled trowel to dig out that bright yellow dandelion growing right there at the base of my hydrangea. And yes, I see that dead branch in there. I'm getting to it!<br />
<br />
Oh wait. Here's a photo from Pinterest of a typical workday in my garden. Yours looks like this, right?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjni6Lt9XFdW4aB6Vchc9l43WrKygIj1d54I-kw2xoJ3wIKeMldEWLvbj0K1IV1UNk56zOQk9-nHuWKHUUTm0tBxJEhAzpfrurbmekJsZ09u_oWEBgIrxY3SePeqwnVh10qMGoWQA/s1600/46c5ab131ff5b841795278dfd3075bfb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjni6Lt9XFdW4aB6Vchc9l43WrKygIj1d54I-kw2xoJ3wIKeMldEWLvbj0K1IV1UNk56zOQk9-nHuWKHUUTm0tBxJEhAzpfrurbmekJsZ09u_oWEBgIrxY3SePeqwnVh10qMGoWQA/s1600/46c5ab131ff5b841795278dfd3075bfb.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>This is a perennial "gardening" favorite on Pinterest:</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96Y9szwqvhvnSX0BlbDVzBUEK-Sy99BVcxnTebR_Dz7jSB-XM0Nc7EZav4nY4E6feNnyhzh-DoZb8Hxk9WomKwRj3CQJeo_7VrXh74lulS4iqDIMX5vVrYNUYKuswj-dCKrSqzw/s1600/bfcb9a59dc2856ff90d40718c9f121d5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj96Y9szwqvhvnSX0BlbDVzBUEK-Sy99BVcxnTebR_Dz7jSB-XM0Nc7EZav4nY4E6feNnyhzh-DoZb8Hxk9WomKwRj3CQJeo_7VrXh74lulS4iqDIMX5vVrYNUYKuswj-dCKrSqzw/s1600/bfcb9a59dc2856ff90d40718c9f121d5.jpg" height="297" width="400" /></a></div>
<b> </b>I think it would look great next to this:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNPZ-JPfW8zLmuy58KSe6YTAgxSjk8ofQfewK9qD5Ji5AnY_0hMhXJIXS0aofyJTKcdl1uTLj56X-9Pdd6oqHCAF7CHJtYG_TeMsR1pjw6DHV8VE9zESX2TonPuiaVJBtso74qQ/s1600/4aa200486fd28fafb128802f4faf48eb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQNPZ-JPfW8zLmuy58KSe6YTAgxSjk8ofQfewK9qD5Ji5AnY_0hMhXJIXS0aofyJTKcdl1uTLj56X-9Pdd6oqHCAF7CHJtYG_TeMsR1pjw6DHV8VE9zESX2TonPuiaVJBtso74qQ/s1600/4aa200486fd28fafb128802f4faf48eb.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
Oh no wait. This one:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLTGNi_ZTaxIa9bNozpAGm_wOm1H_fTDxr8Ig6PmlkEer5iHGfpN2qbkUJXwASn5-LbEtjq7NI2kWXP7DVNx06OsS5v_nwPtM-RlG1Pt6SVgM0uj9GmJvsjDC9E09LPvT0FYGOQ/s1600/6868c4fb7ce331ab610758d954c4c6df.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLTGNi_ZTaxIa9bNozpAGm_wOm1H_fTDxr8Ig6PmlkEer5iHGfpN2qbkUJXwASn5-LbEtjq7NI2kWXP7DVNx06OsS5v_nwPtM-RlG1Pt6SVgM0uj9GmJvsjDC9E09LPvT0FYGOQ/s1600/6868c4fb7ce331ab610758d954c4c6df.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
I love alliums, and the fun form and playfulness they bring to a garden:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSqxuOr99ogQ5P1u-qO5kygxh-1uJkSAJnVa2FuKy9h-PACjYHGw-eF8KkcRbqfNnFFRRf-5i2vS9rK0HdHUdcaK9CXUAuutRK_ubsCvr3Db51lMd65y4Us7XhiZ934M4Ug_Qlg/s1600/517330bbf8848e33e146346e9b27191e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSqxuOr99ogQ5P1u-qO5kygxh-1uJkSAJnVa2FuKy9h-PACjYHGw-eF8KkcRbqfNnFFRRf-5i2vS9rK0HdHUdcaK9CXUAuutRK_ubsCvr3Db51lMd65y4Us7XhiZ934M4Ug_Qlg/s1600/517330bbf8848e33e146346e9b27191e.jpg" height="400" width="326" /></a></div>
Hey kid! Hands off the alliums!<br />
<br />
Nothing says <i>I Love to Garden!!!</i> like a dirty pink bra: <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIX4-z6XTzmFucz4wASlJ8p4ah-bqt67db-OjC7SL42FP4FjWmppAFYsUzKy1wRrRO6LuAsFf60TsWFBvkCE63gW5su1lLeV6KK8IwvwI4dPFmBq5qd9HNzzcTqcyzKLpogsjkA/s1600/pinkbra.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIX4-z6XTzmFucz4wASlJ8p4ah-bqt67db-OjC7SL42FP4FjWmppAFYsUzKy1wRrRO6LuAsFf60TsWFBvkCE63gW5su1lLeV6KK8IwvwI4dPFmBq5qd9HNzzcTqcyzKLpogsjkA/s1600/pinkbra.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
What would Pinterest be without words plastered on walls, clothing, or on pots?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhztGOzyBj5UF2qp2f7Qi1ehoMVYp0Xw5GJX5MmvD82ol0gCl85aYKSS6B2vKzph1GkLPd-fTzIxYuZcQ5w1diDKPEQrQyx3DWOoFfPzdXoLtU9ZozWKMfJID9nt76xP4Sluqxn9w/s1600/planyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhztGOzyBj5UF2qp2f7Qi1ehoMVYp0Xw5GJX5MmvD82ol0gCl85aYKSS6B2vKzph1GkLPd-fTzIxYuZcQ5w1diDKPEQrQyx3DWOoFfPzdXoLtU9ZozWKMfJID9nt76xP4Sluqxn9w/s1600/planyer.jpg" height="400" width="236" /></a></div>
Okay okay. I'll stop. You get the picture. Aren't you glad you're not here when I'm on Pinterest? Good news, I'm mainly using it as a place to curate things I see from around the web. <a href="http://pinterest.com/leannlocher/boards/" target="_blank">Feel free to guffaw at my boards here.</a> Oh Pinterest. You crack me up. Not really. <br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-12783724141152737162013-02-15T10:58:00.002-08:002013-02-15T10:59:52.462-08:00What do you see? A dreary grey day or a scene filled with lush moss and lichen?<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8466531192/" title="My friend, Moss #pdx #oregon #moss by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="My friend, Moss #pdx #oregon #moss" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8099/8466531192_4f4fdcc25e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
I realize I haven't shared much in the way of my thoughts for the new year, yet alone my word for the new year. I <i>have</i> been writing about them, just not here on my blog. For the past year, I've been writing a monthly column called, Cultivating Life, over at <a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/" target="_blank">PQ Monthly</a>. This past month, I wrote about gratitude, and the powerful force of training your brain to practice it.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
If I’m to add a new practice to my day, this year it will be the act of
practicing gratitude, and I’m doing that by picking up my camera. Not my
iPhone camera, but my digital camera. The day of the Newtown shootings,
I turned off all media, shut down my social media, and picked up my
camera. I carried it with me and looked at the world in a different way
that day. It helped me see beauty in little things — like a bright blue
sky, the pattern of my leggings combined with the tile floor, and how
the steam curls from a freshly poured cup of hot tea. It took my eyes,
and my brain, to a different place when it would have been so easy to
have been overcome with grief and shock, and I learned that
contemplating life, composition, pattern, and the world around me is a
form of meditation when using my camera. </blockquote>
<a href="http://www.pqmonthly.com/cultivating-life-januaryfebruary-2013/" target="_blank">You can read the whole thing here</a>, and about what happened the year I decided to say "no." It was transformative, and enlightening.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8372856211/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="The rare glow of winter sunshine by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="The rare glow of winter sunshine" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8046/8372856211_91223e937b.jpg" height="333" width="500" /></a></div>
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-82668838246328472252013-02-13T06:00:00.000-08:002013-02-13T06:00:13.755-08:00Wordless Wednesday. Theme: Anticipation<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8468922944/" title="Anticipation: daphne odora bud by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Anticipation: daphne odora bud" height="333" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8381/8468922944_13f008a32a.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/4NwP3wes4M8" width="420"></iframe><br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-88608228545738151752013-02-12T10:28:00.003-08:002013-02-12T10:28:35.421-08:00What kind of gardener am I? I'm not going to any garden shows this year. I know. Can you believe it? No garden shows for me. Not the Seattle show, not the San Francisco show, and I didn't go to the Portland garden show either. Instead, I'm reading all of my fellow bloggers reviews and take-aways from their own time there (thank you for that!). But I have to admit. I have no desire for a fountain made from three Weber grills.<br />
<br />
What I did instead? Actually worked in my own garden. There's so much to be done out there, and with a stretch of days without rain, we seized the opportunity and got to work.<br />
<br />
This may not look like much, but it was a big difference:<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8463940226/" title="Spring clean up in the garden this weekend, before and after. This is one of about 8 beds we cleaned up. #gardening by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Spring clean up in the garden this weekend, before and after. This is one of about 8 beds we cleaned up. #gardening" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8522/8463940226_79abcece1d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
We probably cleared 7 or so beds this size, and filled the back of a pick up with yard debris.<br />
<br />
There's still much to do, including several more beds in the front of the house to clear. Wisteria to prune, bushes to prune, and roses to hack. But damn it feels good to be out there. I'm getting a jumpstart on the garden this year. Let's hope the weeds aren't too.<br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-36430395845901453382013-02-04T09:30:00.002-08:002013-02-04T09:30:33.312-08:00February is the cruelest monthI've often felt February is the cruelest month. Short, dark, grey, cold and dreary. We often see little if any of the sun during February in Portland, Oregon. The winter greys weigh heavily on my shoulders, and I do have an arsenal to combat the tough month. My tools:<br />
<ul>
<li><b>exercise</b>—cardio boosts my mood, and combined with blaring of my favorite music while doing cardio is even better</li>
<li><b>vitamins</b>—multi vitamin plus Vitamin D, fish oil, and calcium</li>
<li><b>lightbox</b>—I use the the small GoLite for 20 minutes early in the morning while checking e mail, my calendar, and schedule for the day.</li>
<li><b>escape</b>—to Mexico, Hawaii, or even Southern California. Go to the sun if it isn't coming to me.</li>
<li><b>give in</b>—hibernate in blankets, escape into a TV series (hello Downton Abbey) </li>
</ul>
But most importantly, get outside as much as possible. I'm not a fan of walking in the rain. I'm just not. I've been a Portlander for 20 years now, and I haven't given in that much. I mean getting out during bouts of non-rain. And if a moment of sunshine occurs, by god, do whatever you can to be out in it.<br />
<br />
This is what it feels like to Portlanders when the sun comes out in February:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8438097609/" title="Oh my god the sun is out in Portland by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="Oh my god the sun is out in Portland" height="500" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8518/8438097609_191201a4d9.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
We are but moles who are blinded by the glowing orb in the sky.<br />
<br />
We've been doing a lot of walking and running lately. (Winter carb craving requires exercise.) And Saturday began with fog that then emerged to brilliant blue skies and sunshine. We ventured to a favorite park for our regular loop, and the sun did two things. 1. I could barely open my eyes in the brightness of it all; and 2. I was filled with a happiness of such great proportion that I verged on the edge of crying with gratitude and joy. Gratitude and joy to simply be healthy, out in the world, with the person I love most in the world, experiencing a brilliant day. We did two loops through Cathedral Park, instead of one, weaving under and around the glorious St Johns bridge.<br />
<br />
This may sound very silly to people who don't live in the darkness of winters like we do here. A recent <i>Portlandia</i> episode captured it perfectly.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JEBCS006HvA" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
And so it was this Saturday: we were living inside a <i>Portlandia</i> episode. The thrill of sunshine, the brightness of it all, the awakening of our lives from the blue air and dark grey. <br />
<br />
I'm going to get through this winter thanks to moments like these, and my arsenal listed above. I'm also counting down the days to Maui. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-54238205933098847622013-01-05T10:23:00.001-08:002013-01-05T10:23:05.849-08:00Farm Hussy is my new favorite name<div style="line-height: 0px; padding-bottom: 2px;">
<a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/219972763021276552/" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="703" src="http://media-cache-ec3.pinterest.com/upload/219972763021276552_sEq6pgpa_c.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<div style="float: left; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<div style="color: #76838b; font-size: 10px;">
Source: <a href="http://smartchickscommune.tumblr.com/post/39682722237/mudwerks-farm-hussy" style="color: #76838b; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: underline;">smartchickscommune.tumblr.com</a> via <a href="http://pinterest.com/Finkiyaya/" style="color: #76838b; font-size: 10px; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">Finkiyaya</a> on <a href="http://pinterest.com/" style="color: #76838b; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
</div>
LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-1787555612699459822012-12-06T10:52:00.000-08:002012-12-06T10:52:00.853-08:00Thinking of Dave Brubeck todayDave Brubeck, the legendary jazz musician passed away this week. I've had <i>Take Five</i> in my mind ever since. Three years ago I wrote here on the blog about his influence on me as a musician growing up. I<a href="http://www.lelonopo.com/2009/12/crazy-rhythm-of-take-five.html" target="_blank">t's a sweet piece you can read here if you like. </a>LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-83798224148856587862012-11-30T17:03:00.000-08:002012-11-30T17:03:22.380-08:00Because I could possibly watch this all day long<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/n7oW5sNbGlU" width="560"></iframe><br />
Congratulations to Rose-Tu and her brand new baby girl born today. LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-4974106206421912902012-11-29T10:00:00.000-08:002012-11-29T10:00:04.948-08:00Food photography and styling sure has changed since 1974Dark, moody, foreboding meat slice anyone?<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFf3uW0FD8OFTL8LhYG_LzEtzmO-n8lWbkoQixggL4UpduFO-8NntgV_l1g5I2zamMcjlw3SFLSTuCUFS1_AHSls5UNdMtFdGYMq7KNF9P3OhyFnz6N7IJAPwAxIoLbP5vqYt7Hg/s1600/DarkMeat.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFf3uW0FD8OFTL8LhYG_LzEtzmO-n8lWbkoQixggL4UpduFO-8NntgV_l1g5I2zamMcjlw3SFLSTuCUFS1_AHSls5UNdMtFdGYMq7KNF9P3OhyFnz6N7IJAPwAxIoLbP5vqYt7Hg/s1600/DarkMeat.jpeg" height="285" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apologies for the center fold. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-86460597311128302302012-11-28T08:00:00.000-08:002012-11-28T08:00:00.937-08:00Pancakes and the overuse of quotation marksCan you smell the enchiladas? Can you smell the pancakes? Can you smell the enchilada pancakes?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKW70QmE7dOpbolYmPXdrUgoI6zVvTehIcqpMDQ_RenlHVuftmG8OTbpceRGChCRSom0EhEWLqkhwqC4Lx_yIVSQBtsn81Ne1yIadgkjyUx5yE0VxfrHPRPSWlfbq1bIdiHYwmZA/s1600/MexiEnchiladas.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKW70QmE7dOpbolYmPXdrUgoI6zVvTehIcqpMDQ_RenlHVuftmG8OTbpceRGChCRSom0EhEWLqkhwqC4Lx_yIVSQBtsn81Ne1yIadgkjyUx5yE0VxfrHPRPSWlfbq1bIdiHYwmZA/s1600/MexiEnchiladas.jpeg" height="288" width="400" /></a></div>
There's the pancakes-disguised-as-enchiladas aspect, here, but the example of having a lot of fun with the Aunt Jemima recipes is great. <i>The flavor's bright as Old Mexico at fiesta time—and the simple figurines establish an intriguing table theme that salutes your imagination. This idea is catching on in Hollywood and along Park Avenue.</i> Oh, to be a copywriter for this one. Fantastic.<br />
<br />
Maybe you're more of a hot dog and pancakes person. You're in luck with this one...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiphOWUtjyCBPB8_EwPt0BgW62MZ7pQCC0a9d_fwUUxF3NiPCSOf70apM5BQnBt4oWyBLSom-MHSuId3E7h6pONlS6PRfzj3sgyw6ai_dr68Vu3WbO3DfKRxp6KDMbqWe1uLL9w/s1600/PennyCakes.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtiphOWUtjyCBPB8_EwPt0BgW62MZ7pQCC0a9d_fwUUxF3NiPCSOf70apM5BQnBt4oWyBLSom-MHSuId3E7h6pONlS6PRfzj3sgyw6ai_dr68Vu3WbO3DfKRxp6KDMbqWe1uLL9w/s1600/PennyCakes.jpeg" height="400" width="281" /></a></div>
Those are slices of hotdogs with pancake batter poured over them. The copywriter got excited writing... <i>Serve immediately with hot syrup or barbecue sauce...and yell "'Penny-Cakes' ahoy!" </i>The copywriter loved extensive use of punctuation. And quotes. Or should I say "quotes."<br />
<br />
You might be surprised to know these "recipes" come from this booklet:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13ZsNwTlCPU6B3l967WYEDpaBONLHkjja0OkB7zJzpraJKVwHw8_o95VPMd0IwjDjyhkjRCtYkptNIWB_Mncs9PynEptkJPfv5B1VRAKqwoX2woK9L2KMAe_Umy_dCTFep7t4Og/s1600/Pancakes+%2522Unlimited%2522.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13ZsNwTlCPU6B3l967WYEDpaBONLHkjja0OkB7zJzpraJKVwHw8_o95VPMd0IwjDjyhkjRCtYkptNIWB_Mncs9PynEptkJPfv5B1VRAKqwoX2woK9L2KMAe_Umy_dCTFep7t4Og/s1600/Pancakes+%2522Unlimited%2522.jpeg" height="400" width="272" /></a></div>
<br />
Because pancakes aren't unlimited, they're "unlimited." <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-29932105084264362912012-11-27T15:00:00.000-08:002012-11-27T15:00:06.314-08:00Because we all need more photos of cute dogs<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lelonopo/8211311681/" title="In a turkey haze. #dogagram by Lelonopo, on Flickr"><img alt="In a turkey haze. #dogagram" src="http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8477/8211311681_af185ff766.jpg" height="500" width="500" /></a><br />
<br />
Diego is cute, right? He recently had to have his hair cut short due to his dislike of having me brush him. That means he gets matts and voila! Off it goes. He's wearing lots of fleece and seasonal sweaters to keep him warm until his hair grows back in. Also, he says "woof" in a greeting to you all. LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10949041.post-11086648812738323742012-11-26T08:00:00.000-08:002012-11-26T08:00:07.677-08:00#1 on the high tech wish list of every home cook...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tCSoBfHgY8eZoel33YZy-TP-XYb9UyPGul9QCNIM10JmaOcq-6Xid7aC1x8rYilrdPmkeJuEt4VvSZfKGNkfalG5013_7bG-u-tXH_EQkGPYK8aDtespIlLZy-xI0BPnWEoGnw/s1600/HiTechFridge.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tCSoBfHgY8eZoel33YZy-TP-XYb9UyPGul9QCNIM10JmaOcq-6Xid7aC1x8rYilrdPmkeJuEt4VvSZfKGNkfalG5013_7bG-u-tXH_EQkGPYK8aDtespIlLZy-xI0BPnWEoGnw/s1600/HiTechFridge.jpeg" height="640" width="416" /></a></div>
...in 1974. It's a conversation piece. No really, that's its name. The Frigidaire Conversation Piece. But I'm not sure if I'm most intrigued with all of its high tech features, such as the cassette tape player and recorder, or its design featuring shelves "elegantly trimmed with the look of teakwood." Oooh la la.<br />
<br />
<i>Honey, there's a message for you in the fridge. Just press play. </i>LeLohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15073317400749817075noreply@blogger.com2