#128

The people on the porches opposite my house never stop smoking. Ever. Their ankles are chained to the plastic garden chairs and the slowly rusting grills. Moss has begun to grow underneath their feet and bean plants are sending out feelers wondering if the human leg makes a good anchoring point.

Meanwhile, this was Monday's story: Everday People featuring Photographer Don Frank. If the link doesn't work, a Google search should bring it right up: "Don Frank Daily Astorian"

Last week was:

Something on Monday which I can't remember anymore, but it brought me to this story for Tuesday's edition...

1.More DUII, more Muni: "DA offers to prosecute DUII cases...

and then I was off to courts and meetings for all of Tuesday.

I ended Tuesday at an empty bar, sipping a whiskey sour and frantically scribbling out my notes and making outlines. Finally. True journalism.

Wednesday...

1. I can't track down the link, but it was about LNG. I had a crash course in this ridiculously complex and argued subject and then was saved by C.

2. The other story was about how people are trying to get some of the north coast designated as a National Heritage Area: read this. It's only by the divine grace of God and all the prophets of Israel this story was not riddled with errors since I was half delusional with lack of sleep, too much work and my body not taking kindly to nourishment.

I think this was the day I went home as soon as I could and cried myself to sleep into a two hour nap--kind of like a six month old infant.

And then there was the wedding which contained so much joy, five houses in the greater Portland area burst into song while all the plastic bags on the entire Park Blocks strip went dancing into the wind and declaring us blessed.