Seasons of April.: A word on winter...

A faded hopscotch grid spanned the entire block this evening, proof of the 80 degree Saturday well spent by many.

Last week I house-babysat for my old neighbors, below my old house. 4 new boys have moved in to what is now their Miller Street home. I gave them one suggestion for how to spend their summer in the house, how to remove the screens and climb onto the roof to enjoy the best summer breeze in one of the best summer trees. They hadn't thought of removing the screens for access and their smiles and beaming eyes told me they were grateful for the suggestion. Jon and Nicole’s bedroom was directly below my first room in the house, so I was excited to awake to the sunrise view of Mt Hood. However, I forgot the minor detail of being 12 feet lower so the sunrise view of the neighbor’s roof threw me off. I did realize in the short time that I stayed that you can hear everything that goes on in the upstairs apartment. Immediately after Jon and Nicole’s return I apologized for any and all the noise we may have made in the years living above them. I took on the role of mother for the week to care for Simone and Harper. Simone is an attention-craving, vocally proclaiming kitty who will give anything for a pet on the back. Harper or more often pronounced, “Oh Harper,” because he’s just that kind of dog is a 12-year-old, hundred pound pup suffering from severe arthritis who listens to NPR daily and frequents Grand Central Bakery. I learned this week what I believe parenting to be similar to; I awoke each morning to first feed Harper and give him his Glucosamine along with the 4 other drugs prescribed for his achy body, then we’d go on our hour long walk, I guess I should say Harper walked me, to sniff out every inch of the street and to sometimes chase the geese. I don’t get baby fever like others my age; I just get puppy fever, so it was nice to get my fix for the month and enough to make me realize that my life cannot accommodate a dog right now. But it was still nice. My mom has always called me the “Doggy Whisperer,” but I don’t think she realized how much human food I’d slip dogs to get on their good side. Harper and I were quite the pair though, so there must be some truth to her statement. He’d do that puppy dog smile for me when I came home and on one occasion jumped four paws off the ground for me when I returned (Jon and Nicole both said they’d never seen him in his old age do this), so I took it as his puppy approval. When I locked the house for the final time his bark echoed throughout Sellwood, which I think meant “thank you” and that we’d be friends for a while.

It’s things like this that I am going to miss.

Tonight I’m back down the street. Chris is in Africa. Saryl has moved to her new home, to a room that looks a little more permanent. Ean and I are left here to watch as slowly things disappear into boxes and into other homes. The room Saryl and I shared is now bare and the bathroom drawers are empty. Long walks home like the one this evening and as slowly whatever remains in this bare room find their way to a designated spot of a suitcase I begin to realize that my time here this winter is coming to its end, but good thing it stayed so long (and I say that with a slight degree of sarcasm because it has been far too long of a winter and one should never wear a down coat in June). Next week I’ll be moving to Wrightwood, CA to live and work among good friends. I suppose I could get a job using the degree I worked so hard on, but I have the rest of my life to do that or to not do that, so for now I will enjoy working outdoors and save that other work for later. I’m usually the planner, the list maker of the bunch, but with this I’ve given up planning because if planning worked I’d be living in Spain right now and the closest I am to that is Google earth. So for now, I’m moving to California and that’s the only plan I need.

It’s been a good winter here, a good, good winter.