Real True Actual Headlines

Sunday, June 18, 2006 5:38 PM

Subject: News From Colorado Springs - Father's Day Edition

News from Colorado Springs

It would be “News from Tualatin,” but we’re not in Tualatin, so one would hope there’s nothing newsy going on there. If there is, and it involves us, it’s probably not good.

Not to say there isn’t news from Portland! My daughter and grandson (actually our daughter and grandson, but hey, it’s Father’s Day!) sent me matching F.D. cards and a great new (to me) book called “The Portrait of Mrs. Charbuque” by Jeffrey Ford. This is a very strange book about an artist in 19^th Century new York City that is commissioned to paint a portrait of a woman without being allowed to see her. I couldn’t put it down. I didn’t even want to take a break to wash the glue off my hands!

Benjamin starts swimming lessons (well … baby splash, anyway) this Thursday! We sent him and his Dad matching swim trunks for Father’s Day, so he’ll have a chance to try them out!

Karen has been getting ready for our next foray into the Northwest, by hiring a mover and inventorying everything we’re moving to the condo. We’ve made airline reservations for August for a two-week stay to correspond with moving day, and we plan to go again in October for a longer stay. Our travels are a bit limited right now by a mysterious new activity I’m engaged in. Every weekday, Karen drives me downtown where I talk to people, fiddle around with a computer, read things, write things, and so-on. It takes all day! At the end of the day, Karen comes downtown again, and picks me up and takes me home. And at the end of each month, they give me money! Even though it’s nice of them to give me the money, and what I’m doing all day is pretty fun, I’m not sure I like this routine. Frankly, it’s exhausting. It’s called “work,” I guess, and I’m glad it’s only gonna last until October. A long-time friend of mine, an architect named Chuck Smith with whom I worked at Muir and Associates in the seventies (!), has a project he needs some help on, and it fits okay with our schedule, so I’m back in harness, I guess!

The first week or so we were back from Tualatin, I was a little disoriented. I woke up at night thinking we were in the condo. I’m not sure the potted plant at the end of the hall will survive. When we look for things around the house, it’s with little enthusiasm, because we assume that we left whatever it is in Tualatin. It’s actually a little shocking to actually find things! As for our visit last summer, we plan on taking a two-bedroom condo’s worth of furniture and gee-gaws from this house up to the condo, but every room here will still be full of stuff. I’m sure this says something, but I’m not sure I want to know what it is.

One thing about our Colorado Springs house which has been firmly reinforced is the need for yard work. Even though it’s been in the 90’s every day with little rain, our yard is growing like, like, like, well … a jungle! In my alter ego as “the mad pruner,” I enjoy going out each weekend (weekends … what’s that?) armed with my pruning shears, pole saw and bow saw, and showing the trees and bushed who’s boss. I show them that they are. This week, in about four hours on Saturday, we generated five trash barrels and six jumbo trash bags of trimmings. And you can’t tell any difference, even if you know where to look. We gotta invent a home distillery to turn this stuff into alcohol for fuel … yeah, fuel, that’s it! Reminds me of a great old cartoon from The New Yorker ca. 1930, in which an alarmed-looking man in his shorts and knee socks is out in the yard, pruning a vine gone wild, and his wife is leaning out the window yelling “My God, Harold! Here it comes again!” as a wiggling vine peeps around the corner of the house. In this desert-like climate, I’m delighted that the plants seem to like our yard, but a little restraint on their part would be welcome. I talk to them (the plants) about this from time to time, but to no avail, and the neighbors are beginning to wonder. We could just stop watering, but the whimpering is distracting.

Well, I have to go get my beauty (!) rest, so I can shrug into my uncomfortable shoes tomorrow and go back to WORK! I think I’m gonna retire.

Love you guys!

Mike and Karen Riley

(Shrug into shoes?)