I don't want to brag or anything, but I am quite the hit with the geriatric crowd

Yesterday while trying to compose our newspaper's "yesteryears" column (pounding out 1984, and I gotta tell you, I know I was just 12 and everything, but wow, no wonder I don't remember much of the early '80s. Boring), an elderly gentleman came in and proceeded to tell me he wasn't sure if I was the person he needed to talk to, but he had this question and...

I actually hear this a lot at the front desk: I'm not sure if you're the right person to help me, but... Hey, it's cool, I say that a lot, too, when I'm out in the world, so no biggie. All I mean by this paragraph is that it's code for you have a 25-percent chance of being the correct person, but 100-percent chance of answering.

I am all about answering.

So he's like, Does your paper publish flight times? and I was all, no, we're too small a paper and too far away from a major airport for anyone to think that was a good idea... maybe the library? They're nice over there. 

I am all about encouraging.

He was not encouraged.

So he proceeds to tell me he's from Butte, Montana, and he was a fighter pilot in the Korean War, and he helped build the hiking trails on both the Oregon and Washington sides of the Columbia River, and once he even got interviewed by our newspaper and it was a huge article (he got the name of our paper wrong, though, so that might go either way), and he's here visiting, and he needs to figure out flights back home, but he'd spent an hour at the library on the computers already and he can't figure it out and we don't have a travel agency in town but if he could just get the names of some Portland travel agents that would be...

By the time he got around to that last part, I'd done a Google search and had a list of Portland travel agents printed out and in front of him.

He thought I was a genius. It was very good for my self esteem.

So after praising my technological ingenuity, he tells me about how he's been in three movies, one with Jeff Bridges (did I know who that was?), who is a good friend of his, and yadda yadda yadda, he's going to see if he can get me a signed photo of him and Jeff and will give it to me the next time he's in town.

Oh, and one of the three was an Army training video made in Florida in the early '50s, and it wasn't on the big screen or anything, but he did get to die on the beach. I kind of thought that was more interesting than Jeff Bridges, but then, I'm not really a movie kind of girl.

(Calm down, Mara. I mean no disrespect.)

So then he shook my hand and asked for my name and if I always sat RIGHT HERE at my desk, and he told me to have a very nice day and thanked me for my help.

The only problem is that he thinks my name is Patricia (it is NOT), so that might be awkward, if my autographed photo really does come through...

P.S. Then I had a very tiny little old lady come in for visitor's guides, which she proclaimed she was sending to Seattle and Portland, and joked how she is doing her part to keep us in business, and I was all, we appreciate that! And then she kind of patted my waist, because that was where her shoulders hit, and laughed and said she bet we did.

The end. Except to say it was kind of a nice day that way.

Post-minimalist shopping isn't as fun as you might think

I've been facing a bit of a dilemma, and just so we're all on the same page from the get-go, this should be filed under "first world problems." Also: This post is way longer than it needs to be. I just don't have time to write concisely.

Remember that gift basket I won at the beginning of May? Update: We've had some fun family date nights to a couple of our favorite restaurants, I've unloaded all my funky hats on happy friends, and given a couple things away as gifts to general applause. Plus I've cashed in my certificate for a free pound of coffee (I go through a lot of coffee when the weather gets warm because of THIS iced coffee recipe) and that was rather fantastic.

Mmm! Coffee!

Anyway, I also got a rather large gift certificate to one of the cutsie stories in town. I never go into this store because A) It's downtown, and downtown is crazy, and 2) It's a touristy gift shop. Oh, and it's expensive. I forgot to mention that part.

During my lunch hour last Wednesday, I decided to go into said gift shop and see what I could find. I went, and I looked, and I found... nothing. I mean, there were some gorgeous bowls, but I don't need any bowls, and there were some cool covered casserole dishes (the largest was $75, might have been two-quarts), but I already have some fairly funky casseroles that I picked up at the church rummage sale a couple of years ago. They make me laugh when I use them, and just for the entertainment value alone I want to keep them. I mean, look at them!

Awesome, right? $5 for both. Such a steal.

Well, and then there's the fact that I've been very successful in purging my unwanted kitchen items (and even some that I did want, just never used), and I'm really not in the mood to bring more stuff in. So kitchenware was out.

I found a rather lovely scarf for $30, except it was in browns and my colors are black, beige and blue (with two grey and two teal items thrown in for good measure), and it wouldn't match more than about half of my (hard won) capsule wardrobe. Also it was made of this webby mesh material and I was just positive it would snag the first time I dared to wear it. I'm clumsy that way.

I left the store with nothing. I texted Eric that the whole experience would have been way more fun pre-minimalism. Ah, well.

But! The next day Eric took me to lunch at the local Elks Club (um, which I totally dissed because our Elks Club is kind of whack, but he had a $20 coupon to the restaurant. I had a cheeseburger that ended up being really delicious. Artisan bun and everything. Color me shocked.) The best part was that we were the youngest people in there by 50 years, I kid you not, except for the bartender. She looked maybe 21. Kids have started to really look young to me since I hit my 40s, by the way. And their youthful enthusiasm kind of makes me sad because reality hasn't knocked them down yet, but you just know it will eventually.

Um... what was I talking about?

Oh, right. After lunch, we still had some time before we had to go back to work, so we went into the shop together to look around. I showed him the scarf and the casseroles, and we looked at a few bracelets. Most were beaded, and not to brag or anything, but I already have a lot of cheap plastic beaded bracelets. I wanted something different.

And then I found this:

Not a beaded bracelet.

And you guys, I'm so happy. The "blessed" message really struck a cord with me because I AM blessed. Sometimes I forget that. Sometimes I start feeling sorry for myself. Sometimes I rage against the machine. But! I have a husband who is my best friend, two smart and beautiful girls, a job I love, and a cat who keeps coming back (they don't have to, you know). That's not even all of it, but I've crossed over into emotional territory here and I'm not altogether comfortable with that. :)

I still have $12 on my gift certificate, and I'm not really sure what to do about that. I'm torn between my minimalist belief that I need nothing more and my frugal hatred of wasting something. War! It's inside of me!

So... the end, I guess. I'll keep you posted if I remember.

Two days in and already behind

Sorry about the blogging break. It was unintentional. We've had some exceptionally good weather lately, and it's hard to sit down and write when this is the view beyond your computer:

Early morning sunshine and prettiness.

That should adequately explain why I have a column due in an hour and a half that I haven't even started yet, as well as why I've got a bit of a sunburn on my arms and legs. Sunshine makes me want to read on the deck with a glass of iced coffee. It does not make me want to do anything productive.

Hey, speaking of hanging out on the deck, here's something I noticed yesterday:

Baby sungold tomatoes! 

So that's kind of exciting. We're not doing a garden this year--our output has been pathetic the last couple of years, and we decided to give the soil a break. I mean, when you can't even grow a decent batch of zucchini, which is practically a weed, you know things are bleak. But we have needs, so Eric got us a couple of huge sungold tomato plants (if you've never had a sungold tomato, you're missing out. Those suckers are like crack. SO GOOD), as well as three fairly well-established basil starts (so well-established I've already been able to make a baby batch of pesto). These sit on the deck. We're putting our southern exposure to good use. Plus it makes it a rather festive area to buck responsibility and read, what with all the flowers and plants and such.

I can't say there's much of a point to any of this, but I suppose that IS the point, so there you go. Hey, I'll have a real post on Wednesday, okay? I should be able to get my act together by then. Even if the extended forecast IS rather wonderful in the sun department...