Let the Season Begin...

Did I miss something? Am I late on Christmas? Did it somehow sneak up on anyone else this year? With a solid week left of November our neighborhood is already ablaze with Christmas lights. Taking my trash out this evening I watched my neighbors struggling in the rain to illuminate a light filled reindeer. Perhaps it is the darkness here which settles heavily by 4:30pm that draws Portlanders to lights- lots of lights. Illuminated reindeer, rainbow lights, and houses neatly trimmed in white lights all seem to defy Portland's self righteous environmentalism. It is though all blue state moralism is suspended for just a few weeks so that maybe we can believe in something, something brighter than the early darkness and holiday bustle.

So, it was no surprise when Rynn and Eleanor began begging for our own Christmas lights and stockings to be hung. Dragging my feet, hoping to at least make it to December, I was thrilled when a box from Nana arrived today with a Fisher-Price Nativity set inside. We played on the floor for over an hour reading the Nativity story and playing with plastic camels and a baby Jesus. We had all the lights in the house turned off so they could see the star light turn on and hear Away in a Manger when we pressed the angel. I guess I could say I'm in the spirit. So...let it begin. Fa la la la la la la la la.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving in Eugene with the Parkers...

Rynn wrestles with Uncle Kyle and LOVES it!

Brotherly and Sisterly Love and Gretchen sporting her Indian Princess Headress

Aunt Caroline getting attacked by Jack, Rynn, and Molly

An Indian Headress "Cat Dance"

Rynn and "Jackie" (as Rynn kept calling him) bonding over a little football.


Waiting for Aunt Gretchen's French Toast

Watching the Macy's Parade with Daddy...I think Jason has some chips in his teeth :)

Molly says, "WHY?"


And the quote of the day...in response to Aunt Gretchen's comment, "Eleanor, you are so tiny," Eleanor says, "I'm not tiny. I know 'cause I saw my shadow, and it is really BIG."

Arch Cape, OR

Buyers. Sellers. Home prices. Not usually words that conjure up happy thoughts, good relationships, much less friendship. One of the great and wonderful surprises of our life here in Oregon is our new friendship with Lenny and Farooq, the former owners of our home on 55th Ave. Little did we know back in August as we negotiated with those faceless "sellers" that three months later we would be spending a weekend with them and a few of their friends in an absolutely amazing beach house hanging on the edge of Oregon's stunning coast.

An hour and a half from Portland lies some of the most spectacular and majestic scenery I have ever seen. Unfortunately, I left the memory card to my camera at home and missed out on a million photo opportunities, so you'll have to use your imagination and hopefully a million words can come close to being worth a picture. Just as my hike in the Columbia River Gorge left me with an overwhelming sense of being washed in green, our trip to the coast left me enveloped in gray. Even though the dark greens of the giant evergreens boldly assert themselves right up to the water and the mighty power of the Pacific ocean continually pounds a rocky coast, the landscape is quietly subdued in a gray both peaceful and beautiful. Walking down the short rocky path to the ocean I felt lost in an antique black and white photo in which all color is translated into a language of blacks, whites, shadows, light, and contrast. Eleanor's hair twisted and turned as the wind wrapped her curls around its finger. Rynn's bright pink bucket seemed oddly out of place in this world of subtle grays. Cliffs rose up beside and behind us as we listened to the sea pull the rocky shore pebbles back into its churning waters. With the sound of a child dropping marbles down a wooden staircase the rocks helplessly slid back into the ocean as the churning foam rhythmically pulled them back to itself. Huge statues of rocks stood proudly in the ocean unaffected by the persistant waves competing for more and more dramatic ocean sprays. I felt so small in this landscape, and yet I found it both powerful and quietly soothing at the same time. Even the architecture on the Oregon coast seems to be quieted by the power and majestic beauty of its foundation as though an ostentatious and colorful beach mansion would only look foolishly proud against such greater beauty. The homes are a gray clapboard with tidy white trim, similar to the ones I saw in Nantucket, nestled under windblown trees or behind a hedge of twisted dunes. The house, which was the home of Lenny and Farooq's realtor, was filled with windows making it feel like we were one wave shy of being soaking wet. The kids, four of them, had fun playing together, and yes, I missed a million awesome photo ops. The picture above is pillaged from the web and gives an idea of what Arch Cape looks like. And if you haven't ever seen the Oregon coast....COME VISIT.

Birthdays, Barbershops, and Baghdad

Hair. Must be talked about, stewed upon, and agonized over. I've worn my husband out with my hair woes, agonies, and desires for opinions, so now I must blog. Hair in Portland takes on a whole new personality. What you think you've done to it at home you can pretty much forget about it when you walk out into what is affectionately known as the "Oregon dew." In my case, it curls. So, for the last five years the nice, tidy stacked bob I've sported is now becoming more of a poof head tragedy. In light of this I've decided to grow it out. So far, this has been a painful process. Without enough hair for a ponytail and not little enough for a short styled cut I'm left in hair limbo agonizing over how to handle this new found CURLY hair that asserts itself despite my best intentions. So, with dreams of long wavy brown locks I persevere. Any encouragements? Hair stories or woes? For the sake of my marriage I must find an outlet. Hair. Hair. Hair. Oh, so back to those long wavy brown locks. I decided yesterday that what better way to celebrate my birthday (Yes, 33 years, scary) than to get a trim. I had what turned out to be quite a cool hair experience. I went to Rudy's Barbershop (check it out @ http://www.rudysbarbershop.com/), and got a wannabe comedian/writer cut my hair for half the price I usually pay. Turns out he used to cut hair for $175 in LA. He was awesome. So, with Camel cigarettes and candy bars behind the counter Rudy's has a unique West Coast 'hipster' feel. Mike, my barber (or more accurately stylist), told me fantastic stories about his life in LA. The best one was his account of the "AIR CUT." Haven't heard of it? Nor had I, but then I've never lived in LA. Apparently, the AIR CUT is for women who are convinced they need a haircut- even if it has only been two weeks- and demand that the stylist cut their hair to "freshen it up." So, for $175 the stylist will fake a haircut by pulling the hair and doing some dramatic snip, snip with his scissors. Crazy. So Mike and I began pontificating on beauty and what sort of delusions folks will stir up in order to convince themselves they have it. Caroline, long hair? Perhaps I, too, am deluded. Time and humidity will tell.

So, my birthday celebration continued with a coveted night out with Jason. We saw a great movie which I recommend (very intense and sad, though) called The Valley of Elah. Part of what made the movie fun was seeing it at the Baghdad theater, a renovated 1920's theater that lets you eat and drink beer while you watch a $3 movie. Check it out at http://www.mcmenamins.com/index.php?loc=9&id=176.

So, happy birthday to me and here's to long hair :).

Fairies Rock and Opas are Cool

"Is heaven inside of us?," asked Rynn tonight as we tucked her into bed. "Well, if it isn't, then how is Jesus both alive in us and in heaven? Can I have my blankie, please?, " she continued. Apparently, a weekend of being a dancing fairy and a well loved upon granddaughter and great-granddaughter wasn't too much to slow down our little theologian. Nor was it too much to keep Eleanor from swinging from the handles of the MAX train downtown (or snuggling with her daddy).

What a great weekend we all had with both Oma and Opa Little(aka Joan and Fred), Terry and Cathy Little, and the Parker crew. Check out my little city rats. Pictures are more than a thousand words. Thank you Oma and Opa, Terry and Cathy, and the Parkers for a GREAT weekend!

More pics to come of our night in Eugene with the Parkers celebrating SIX (Opa, Molly, Jack, Jason, Caroline, and Gretchen) November birthdays!

The Standard Time Blues

It has been almost a week since I sat down with the blog. I think the Little family is suffering from S.T.Bs. The Standard Time Blues. It is not that the sky is streaked with bright pink clouds at 4pm, or that the daylight is already peeking out on my morning run (all one of them this week), or that we are resistant to change...ok, well, maybe the latter. Rather, it is that no one informed our youngest daughter Eleanor that she is supposed to adjust her waking hour because the government says so. Yes, we've put them to bed later, yes it is still dark in the morning, yes she is nice and warm in her bed, but will she sleep past 5am? NOOOOO!!!!! Not only has Eleanor decided not to adjust her waking time, but she has decided that waking up even earlier (like 4:15am on monday), and the entire house with her, is appropriate.

So, the Little house has been full of life this last week. Early life, that is. Jason put in a new water saving toilet so we can feel self righteous, and so we can have a toilet that actually flushes. Novel idea. Hope Pres. met at our home Sunday night, and we enjoyed the Lord's Supper together with a bowl of wine and some Trader Joe's bread. Rynn made some very cool toilet paper roll binoculars, and Eleanor is rehearsing her temper tantrums in public places like grocery store parking lots. I think some are Oscar worthy. She even starting ripping her shirt off today. Watch out Janet Jackson. Of course, I might be ready for the nut house before her third birthday. I'm enjoying my lunch at 10am and ready for a strong drink by 2pm. So, there's our news. Oh...and several folks have asked about Eleanor's black eye which is finally almost gone. No, we haven't been beating her. She ran into her cousin Jack's bed last weekend in Eugene and hit it in just the right spot. It was good timing for Halloween- black eyed bunnies seem to get more candy. Go figure.

The Morning After

I love Halloween. I love to dress up. I love to dress my children up. I love chocolate. I love candy. When else can you merely flip on your porch light and have all your neighbors knock on your door? Or, unless you are a Jehovah's Witness or Sierra Club volunteer, knock on all your neighbors' doors- even the ones you've never met or laid eyes upon? Portland loves Halloween. I felt as though I had jumped into a movie set of America forty years ago as I watched children skip past glowing Jack-o-Lanterns, running down sidewalks, and knocking on doors wildly decorated with ghosts and pumpkins. Rynn and Eleanor grew more confident with each house until by the end of the night they were running ahead (or hopping as it may be, in the case of my little rabbit) to eagerly shout "Happy Halloween!" with their bags opened wide. The quote of the night from Rynn, "OK, Eleanor, Let's DO IT!." Rynn organizing and taking stock of her loot.

Our new friend and neighbor Anna (pronounced ahhh-na)

What I do not love is the morning after Halloween. The sugar crashes. Miss and Miss Queen Grumpy who apparently did not get enough sleep. And the inevitable let down of a fun day which is now history. So, in a desperate attempt to redeem the morning, I decided to try a visit to the Hoyt Arboretum to take in the last of the autumn color and sunshine. The Hoyt Arboretum (read more @ http://www.hoytarboretum.org/) is " 185 ridge-top acres about two miles west of downtown... home to a collection of trees representing more than 1,000 species gathered from around the world. " It is a place I've wanted to visit since my mom and I had a quick glimpse back in April. Washed with vibrant colors the Arboretum turned what was quickly becoming a day darker than a Halloween night into a joy filled adventure. And I even met a kind stranger who took our picture (this one's for you Marie!).

my black eyed girl :)