I'm glad I don't live in...

Egypt (too much bloody political unrest), Arizona (too much bloody political unrest), Chicago (too much political quirkiness), Seattle (too much rain), Florida (too many old people), Washington, D.C. (too many politicians), Hawaii (too much water), Texas (too many guys in cowboy boots). I could go on and on.

And if I didn't live here, I would add Oregon to the list (too green and too "green").

I would like to live in places I have actually lived: Missouri (where I was born and raised), Colorado (where I went to college), California (where I lived most of my adult life). That's it. Nothing else appeals to me.

But my choice to move here was not based on geography but on family. All four of my children and my three grandchildren live here. So here I am. Slightly damp and a little disgruntled, but glad to be close to family.

And I have to admit, Wood Village is a fairly protected place. No danger of floods or mud slides, or hurricanes, or tornadoes, or eruptions, or tsunamis, or sink holes, or other natural disasters. And no danger of violent uprisings. No gangs, no protests, no home invasions. It's a bit boring but very safe.

So I settle down in my cozy digs and watch on TV as the rest of the world deals with violence and crime and bad weather. I am blessed.

A Chore for Every Day

Remember this? "Wash on Monday, Iron on Tuesday, Mend on Wednesday, Churn on Thursday, Clean on Friday, Bake on Saturday, Rest on Sunday." I like to mix it up a little so today I did laundry. One of my most disliked tasks. Well...it's the folding and putting away I don't like.

But I have to remind myself how fortunate I am to have a laundry room that is clean and warm. In other times and places I've had to descend to the creepy basement, or go out in the cold garage, or cross the yard to an outbuilding. Worst of all...some places I've lived I had to go to a laundromat. And in San Francisco I didn't have a car so I had to WALK pulling a cart like a horse.

So this set up on the heated back porch is really the best possible situation. Only a few steps from the bedroom. Not all that hard. But I let it pile up and then it turns into an all day project. One last load waiting to be put in the dryer as I write this. Don't ask me why I picked Saturday.

Oh...I remember. My life is so boring I didn't have anything else to do. Yawn!

Snow

People here think it would be terrible to live where it snows. They love this wet soggy weather and have no clue that there are thousands of people who don't live here on purpose. When I lived in Missouri...yes, we had snow. But the small town where I lived had more and better snow removal equipment than the whole metropolitan Portland area.

People in snow country are equipped with warm clothing and shovels and storm cupboards. It's not a big deal. I used to drive to work every day in weather that would shut this town down. I have a four-wheel drive vehicle and a 40-degrees-below-zero Cabela coat. I miss the snow. Much more livable than rain, in my opinion. Of course, it can disrupt air travel and some people must miss their full body scans and pat downs.

I have to tell you I am sick of the color Green.

Fog Lifting

That is the weather report in Portland. Not so much the prognosis for my brain. Everything seems misty and disjointed. An eyegraine in the night resulted in blurry vision as well. These cold dreary gloomy mornings make me want to stay curled up in my new "chair-and-a half" and not get dressed until noon.

Wednesday is my day to do shopping and errands so I am trying to psych myself up to get out of the house. Maybe fresh air will make me feel better. It's my "pay day." I still think it is a miracle that money automatically arrives in my checking account on the 4th Wednesday of every month and I don't have to do anything!

My State of Pat message to Obama: Don't mess with my Social Security and leave my health insurance alone. Go ahead and cut big bank bailouts and defense spending. Quit capitalizing on poor Gabby.

Welcome Back

Sometimes I need a place to post opinions. Facebook and Twitter are subject to venomous comments and sarcastic replies. So I am back blogging here.

My comment today has to do with thank you notes and not getting them. I simply do not understand why people can't take the time to thank someone for a gift, especially a hand-made one. My experience this Christmas has left me feeling very hurt and puzzled. I knit ten little lace bags for ten friends. I received FOUR thank you notes. Then after I contacted the other six people to see if they received the gifts, I got several "dog ate my homework" excuses detailing how busy and full their lives were and therefore...no time to write to me.

One in particular bothered me. I would think that a 40+ year friendship would at least warrant a Christmas card if not a gift. And a gift from me would at least warrant a response. I got a disjointed and incoherent letter dated January 11th. That does not pass as a Christmas greeting. And she sent me back thank you notes my kids wrote to her back in the 70s. What's up with that?

My parents insisted I write PROMPT thank you notes and I did the same with my kids. But apparently it has fallen out of fashion. I noted this in my journal and will remember it next year when I think about making gifts.

I would like to note that the children I sent gifts to did write to me. And they are only five years old!!