My email messages go out with an orange butterfly in the upper right hand corner. Hmmm. I never requested this feature or specially arranged to be represented by a butterfly. I like butterflies. They're pretty. But the butterfly is not me; not my symbol, my logo, my calling card. I am not the butterfly, and yet whenever friends or family hear from me they are seeing the butterfly, and maybe they're thinking: "She's really into that butterfly."
I searched around my toolbar for the butterfly "on/off" switch. Couldn't find it. I thought I might find a list of other character options and wondered whether any of them would better suit me. There don't seem to be any; not that I can find. A chicken is a likely option, and some time ago I might have felt like using a sea turtle. My cynical side wonders why ants aren't showing up on my outgoing email. Ants are everywhere else in my life. Frickin' ants.
It might be amusing, in a junior high kind of way, to have symbols that change with holidays, seasons or moods. Google has creative fun decorating their banner. At the moment I feel like I could be best symbolized by a cute sloth, sweating and lethargic, staring blankly, waiting for a special delivery and cooler weather.
Max is writing his Christmas list... Alex is drawing... William is fixing a bagel... Geoff is playing tennis...
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
Before laundry and grocery shopping, before unpacking and opening mail... I must download digital images and organize photo files. We took many pictures on our Oregon adventure. We were yurt camping and beach combing. We picked wild blackberries, and went to the parade at Bandon's 58th annual Cranberry Festival. I met mom's friends, Ava and Luanne, and had an awesome breakfast at Stan's place. Stan makes croissants that are muy French and flakey. We met Curly; a slug that could be mistaken for a beached whale. Our photos should reflect the 14 days of adventure and fun, without emphasizing the tedium of 60 hours on trains, or dealing with really bad colds.
Mom and Ron's place is great. They have settled in, and it's nice to see the details and familiar objects that reflect their lives and interests. Grandma has her place there too. She has her own room, and throughout the house are the things she enjoys, like her teacup collection, and books. We got to see the beautiful flowers and plants they have been cultivating in barrels. Like our trip before, two years ago, the weather was very nice, sunny and warm, so we missed out on the storms and rain that the area is better known for. This is not surprising, since I packed for cold weather.
We were there in time for William and Alex to attend the last performance of the season of the Sawdust Theater's melodrama "Ding dong Dell, Who Threw Grandma Down The Well?" My homebodies were reluctant to go, but returned very enthused and impressed by the whole evening. They also enjoyed the two mornings we walked over the dunes to fossil hunt on the beach and play with the giant drift wood pieces. Alex drew the rocky formations toward the Jetty and Coquille River. Max climbed the dunes. William had thoughtful reveries and tranquil moments to contemplate the universe.
My thoughts and reflections will take longer to develop than the several hundred photographs that I downloaded while writing this brief Blog update. I am moving and thinking like a pregnant woman in her third trimester: Slow and quiet, distracted by thoughts of tiny toes and new life.
September 2, 2010 :: Updated With Photos!
This was such a wonderful, memorable trip. I was quite pregnant with Maria, or Papaya. The boys and I took the train from southern California, all the way to Oregon. It was a fun (sometimes too long) thirty hour ride each way. In Delia and Ron's home we enjoyed family company, with Grandma, and Henry and Eva too. There were blackberries, a salmon festival, and many happy hours exploring.
Max still begs me to make our next trip a trip by train to Oregon.
A bit more from that trip... September 28, 2004 :: "Blackberries"