Doom, I mean Spring is upon us...

Well, the 2008 SI swim edition is in my possession, so it is officially spring time, though the weather has not been particularly cooperative in welcoming all that spring has to offer. It has been a while, a long while since my last blog. I have a lot of catching up to do I suppose. Here is my speed rendition at an update on life:

Tim came back from a month in SE Asia, with thousands of beautiful photos. I was so happy to have him home again. It sure was getting lonely around here. I have since been fortunate to sample all of the cooking skills and recipes he learned while in Thailand. He is a master at curry, the green is my favorite.

My mom came to visit last month for a few days, it was so great to see her! We went several mini adventures in PDX including the Tao of Tea, Pambiche, the Japanese Gardens, Laurelhurst, the general Belmont area, and of course Portland Nursery. But mostly we just sat around huddled under blankets sipping tea or Vietnamese coffee, and enjoyed the company due to the nasty cold weather.


Tim and I did plant therapy with all the new and exciting options at Portland Nursery (our favorite place to spend our free afternoons). We have a dwarf nectarine, poppies, window boxes as well as an attempted kitchen herb garden that hangs over the sink.

Work has been one crazy night after the other, but we have been staying very busy until last week- which I am very greatful for. I have come a long way in my profession in the past 6 months. I even took my first balloon pump! This probably means nothing to you, but just take my word that it is exciting. They have also asked me to do relief charge, which is so so scary! Flattering and all, but no thanks.


A couple years ago, Tim got this old TV console and record player. The TV didn't work, so he gutted it, refinished it, and put in a fish tank in place of the TV at my request. Ever since, it has been our aquatic canvas. We have gone through many remodels with plants when it begins to look uninspired, and unfortunately many fish have come and gone (gone down the toilet burial that is). One fish, if you can even call him a fish, that has held through from day one is Nessie. He was our prehistoric looking eel with snake like scales fitted with dinosaur spikes. We named him The Loch Ness Monster, or Nessie for short. He was a survivor. Even when we moved the tank from the condo to the new house, and had to put each fish in a make-shift travel tank (aka various vases half filled with water), he made the bumpy journey with no problem. He was the only living fish on arrival. A few weeks ago on a dreary night, Tim and I were talking about needing to liven up the tank, and what the options were. We went to bed undecided. The next morning I walked out of our bedroom and immediately noticed something on the floor. It was big, it was black, it appeared to be slimy... basically not something you would voluntarily pick up. I very hesitantly walked over to get a closer look. It was Nessie. Apparently he decided it was time to evolve. No such luck, he was dead. I have no idea how he got out. There is only one small hole that he could have squirmed through, and even then he would have had to crawl or slither over the steep slope of the tank light and carefully maneuver his way out through the front side of the record player avoiding the many cracks, nooks, and crannies on his way out. Anyhow, he did it. Not only did he get out, but he managed to end up several feet from the tank. In case this did not make me uneasy, there was more to come. I put on my blue rubber gloves to transport him to the flushing burial grounds, bent down and picked him up in my fingers. Then came the blood curdling scream... Nessie was not completely dead, he was writhing, thrashing, turning his head and lunging toward me. It was awful. I am severely traumatized. He always scared me a little, but I never envisioned my own private version of Jurassic Park to materialize in my living room. Needless to say we got some new fish, and none of them resemble anything close to a prehistoric beast. My favorite, our beautiful discus, is pictured above.

Ever since experiencing the tragedy of the Loch Ness monster, things have just been going down hill. I am not sure when, exactly, everything went wrong. What I can say, is that this house is full of sadness, tears, and change. I know that change usually makes us stronger, that it comes about for a reason. I sure don't feel strong, don't currently feel that change is a welcomed friend.
Betrayal is a funny thing, not funny haha. It seems that you cannot truly betray someone else unless said someone has put quite an investment in you- whether it be time, emotions, love, money, trust- or a combination of such. When you betray yourself, it gets much more complicated. How is it possible to love someone so incredibly much, and things begin to crumble anyway? How can you put so much effort into making everything work out, but know in your heart of hearts it will not be a beautiful ending? How is it that you can live with someone for so long and invest so much, but not be the one who intervenes in their saddest struggle?