Wednesday, November 13th
Rain all day today, the real stuff. We were thinking of a hike out in the Crestwood Land Trust area, but we decided it was too wet for that. Instead we just went up to Calloway Creek. Much of the trail there goes through a managed fir forest that was thinned a number of years ago and these days there are three distinct levels of vegetation there. The lowest layer consists of fern and blackberry. Then comes a layer of foliage from deciduous understory trees. At Calloway, these are mostly Oregon hazel,–unimpressive, tattered looking things that grow about eight feet high. Above them you see only the spiky trunks of middle-aged firs, unless you really crane your neck to see their crowns.
Thursday, November 14th
Friday, November 15th
There is still lots of rain going on these days. We did get to see the recent full moon, but only through a layer of cloud.
What would happen to animals–pets, domesticated or wild–if humans were to suddenly die off? We have both just finished reading Hollow Kingdom, a novel that suggests some possible answers to that question, in an entertaining sort of way. The story is told from the viewpoint of a pet crow. Once the apocalypse begins, the crow has a lot to learn, as do all the other creatures who survive.
E’s current book is James, the re-imagining of the Huckleberry Finn story from the viewpoint of Huck’s companion, the escaped slave Jim.
Sunday, November 17th
We went up to Salem today and had dinner at Happy Bibimbap. A and A drove down from Vancouver and met us there. It was a lovely evening and the food was good. (But if anyone offers you a Korean beer called Terra, you might want to give it a pass.)
Tuesday, November 18th
Margaret Atwood came to Corvallis today–on her birthday–to give a talk as part of Oregon State’s Provost’s Lecture Series. The lecture was to be accessible either in-person at PRAx or via streaming. We were both interested in seeing Atwood, as was our friend H. H managed to get tickets to attend in person while we had to settle for watching the stream.
M’s interest in Atwood dates from long ago and centers on an early novel of hers called Surfacing, which he first read in the 1970’s. In 2018, the year of M’s great purging of the books, Surfacing was one of only twenty or so books that M couldn’t bear to part with. One of the very earliest entries to this very blog included a photo of the striking cover of his 1972 copy of the book, along with some thoughts about it.
OSU is primarily an Ag, Science and Tech school, but these days it does have a rather nice arts complex. The PRAx center for the creative arts at OSU was completed just two years ago with funds provided largely by private donors, including a $25 million gift from Patricia Valian Reser, who graduated from OSU in 1960. Patricia Valian was born in 1938 in Windsor, Ontario Canada and was the daughter of a sheet metal worker. You can see an oral history sketch of her life here.
So anyway, how was the lecture? Well, E and M haven’t actually seen it yet. H says it was good. She has seen it, but via a video stream instead of in-person. Huh? What? Didn’t she go to PRAx to see it? Yes she did, but when she got there she found out that the lecture had been…not cancelled exactly…but changed. The reasons are somewhat murky. One story has it that there was a bomb threat. But the more accepted explanation is that when Atwood arrived in town and found out that OSU’s graduate teaching assistants were on strike, she informed OSU that she couldn’t give the talk because she did not cross picket lines.
Apparently some sort of compromise was reached. Atwood agreed to give the talk, but only for the camera. The talk was then streamed, but access to the stream was limited to only those who had originally registered to attend in person. People like us, who had originally registered for streaming would be able to stream eventually, but not until November 25th. Well.
Thursday, November 21st
We had J and B over to dinner tonight. It was great to catch up with them. B had shoulder surgery just four weeks ago and is wearing a sling. This did not prevent him from bringing along a very nice autumn salad of brussels sprouts and cabbage dressed with hints of maple syrup. E and M contributed tomato cheese pie and gelato. J came through with a bottle of local pinot noir. The winery is called Lumos and is located just a dozen miles away from us. Here’s how the Lumos people describe their Pumphouse pinot : Lean, hungry, and playful, the 2019 vintage of the Pumphouse block carries on the windswept tradition of previous years with its aromas of wet brick, goji berries, and blood orange. Flavors of thimbleberry and cinnamon intermingle with these scents…
The wine was very good. We were pleased to see that it was a wet brick wine as we have never found a dry brick wine that we like. We did not detect the flavor of thimbleberry, but this is only due to our own ignorance. Even though we grow thimbleberries, we have never tasted them. We also missed the cinnamon note and could not fully appreciate the wine’s windsweptness. This was probably due to our old and worn down taste buds.
Friday, November 22nd
Today we took a hike in the Crestwood Land Trust natural area, the hike that we had postponed the week before. As we were preparing to leave our house, the weather was quite nice: periods of sun, though with some ominous clouds. Our drive to the trailhead took about 40 minutes and was an eventful one. At the 20 minute mark we saw a beautiful rainbow, an arch that reached out in the direction we were going and appeared to touch down almost exactly at the place where our hike would start. Ah-ha! said we, we’re going to find the end of the rainbow. But, alas, when we got to the trailhead, we found that the “bow” part of rainbow had been deleted and the other part had taken over. It was raining pretty hard.
So we bundled up and walked out into the rain like people who didn’t know any better. On the first part of the trail we searched in vain for all the acorn woodpeckers that we had seen on our last visit. They weren’t dumb. We took just a photo or two of the soggy scene.
After a while, though, the weather started to improve. Soon we had our hoods off and a little after that we noticed we had shadows. By the time we got to the viewpoint where we planned to have lunch, it was pretty nice.
By the time we had eaten and hiked back to the car, another rainbow had appeared and seemed to be coming to earth right close to us. No pot of gold though. Darn.
In the evening E and her friend H went to a folk music concert at the Best Cellar Coffeehouse in the basement of the Methodist church. They enjoyed it immensely. Since neither E nor H can see well enough at night to drive, they relied on the Ü-beck transportation service to get them there. In the interest of fairness they used an Ü-beck competitor to get themselves home.
Sunday, November 24th
It’s been a nice weekend, cool and damp, but not really raining very much. Both of us have been working outside a bit, cutting away dead things and prepping plants for winter. On Saturday morning, E went out early and walked to the French pastry shop to secure us three weeks’ worth of croissants. That evening she walked with M over to Tacovore for dinner. On Sunday she walked again–just in the neighborhood–and found a holly bush with berries.
E thinks of holly berries as a sign of winter. But at our house, in an area that never sees the sun at this time of year, we still have signs of summer: two azalea bushes in bloom accompanied by a pink and purple fuchsia. It’s a little confusing.
