Getting Lost

I get lost sometimes, even with my navigational device in my car. Especially in Lake Forest Park. Apparently, the address doesn't exist in the map my car has, so each time I go to my friend Diane's house, I end up calling her in a panic, saying I am lost again, where she calmly guides me through the neighborhood while standing on her porch on her walk around phone, saying soothing things, like, "you are almost here, I can hear you, get ready to turn left." I blame getting lost in Lake Forest Park to the city "planners" who named the streets and decided the logic in the names and numberings. I've been lost there so many times, I think I am getting somewhere, because the scenery seems familiar. I only just realized it's because I've been LOST there before.



I have another friend who says she has a form of dyslexia where her brain doesn't understand spacial relations. She sent me to this website: http://www.gettinglost.ca/ where some scientists are putting a name on that.

ArtHouse Sketchbook project

http://arthousecoop.com/projects/sketchbookproject





Here is an interesting thing...an art project mailed in and put on display in Atlanta, Georgia. Open tonight and streaming live video, I believe...4-7-seattle time.

Plumbing, contractors and all that

Wow, I have had a glimpse into the reality of home ownership. I have decided the best way to enjoy a home is to constantly repair and beautify it. My house is a home built in the 1940's and remodeled from time to time since then. It seems that every time a system breaks, I get to see how well the person who fixed or remodeled it last did it, and, it turns out, I am constantly disappointed. The latest sad story is the bathroom leaked into the lower level. Two places, same reason. Bad workmanship from the person who did the last bathroom remodel. The shower, and the toilet...both leaking into walls and floors.

Which brings me to the next observation. There are contractors who people refer because they are awesome. I have had a plumber, a tile guy, and a fix it guy...all stomping through my house with their dirty shoes on, and leaving a mess. (Actually, they clean up somewhat, but there is still dust, grime and dirt, and spare parts left behind) If only these guys would do a great job, and clean up! Would I be happy then?

Maybe when the fan works again...

Cell Phones

In 1989 I got my first "car phone"...hard wired into my car. 300 minutes a month cost 300 dollars. Now, even though illegal, 3 out of 5 drivers I saw on the road today were chatting away, holding the phones to their heads, shaking their heads and laughing...frowning. Really, who is driving?

And I ate at the Northgate Nordstrom store where the food was excellent, the service was fast and courteous, and the music was fairly loud and annoying (to get you to move out and shop, perhaps) and the woman behind me, took a call on her cell..."HELLO!", she yelled? ARE YOU IN TOWN?" she continued, yelling..."I am so glad to talk to you!"

Louder than the obnoxious musac, so off I went, to my own car, where my cell phone is on mute.


Maybe it's only because I have had a phone in my car for 20 years (wow) that I find that others using theirs like every tiny unimportant conversation is necessary to take RIGHT NOW!...annoys me. But, really, do you need to yell in a restaurant? swerve on the highway? Sometimes I want to go back to the day when the phones were attached to a wall in a home. At least then, if you didn't want to hear someones conversation, you could leave them to their call. Now, they can just wander up and talk in your face.

Driftwood Days at the Beach

Here is a fine image of some driftwood heading past as the tide goes out.