Good-bye, neighbors

We've got some pretty cool neighbors in Brian, Eowyn, and Layla (not to mention Kali, their dog). But, alas, they are moving out of their rental around the corner next to the Plaid to a super cool house they bought north of Burnside.

The parents are fascinating people -- she's a doctor who works with street kids at Outside-In; he's a citizen journalist activist currently developing a phone app for citizen journalists -- and we've enjoyed having them as neighbors. Last Saturday we had them over for a farewell barbecue and had a good time, and Elizabeth got to push the boundaries of her freedom: first, she and Layla got to go to the end of the block, then around the corner to pick blackberries; next, Elizabeth got to walk the neighbors home, again venturing around the corner. She was positively giddy with the liberty.

She came home from Brian, Eowyn, and Layla's with these ridiculously magnificent flowers.

Block Party IV: The Quest for Peace

Despite the awful weather, we had another blockbuster block party. It may not have been Block Party II-levels of success, but it certainly exceeded block-office expectations.

Barb and I were expecting rain. Luckily, last year we bough the world's flimsiest pavilion. So we set it up with the food tables under it and called everything good. Which it was, until the heavens opened up and dumped so much rain on us that the pavilion collapsed. And then one of us (me, mostly) had to be out there under the pavilion's questionable aegis, holding one of its legs as insurance against collapse and getting at least one limb wet.

On the other hand, our first guests were the Reed College students who visited (with a pan of hot potatoes au gratin!) from the formerly abandoned house, which was purchased by some enterprising soul and fixed up to become a nice rental property. There are four students living there, and we met three of them, and they were just as you would expect of smart young people privileged enough to be enjoying a college that charges $47,500/year tuition. Which isn't an insult! They were AWESOME! They were nice, polite, smart, attractive, and interesting. 

Whatever their parents did, it seems to have worked (e.g., they brought potatoes au gratin). So bully for them, I say.

Many of the other neighbors arrived, including another "new" renter from across the way. His name is Eric and he has a business making custom boat covers. We see him sometimes sewing these enormous marine garments in the driveway. Seemed nice enough.

The kids had a great time with the rain: dashing from the pavilion to the house and vice-versa, splashing in the puddles, etc. They didn't care a whit for the rain.

After a little while, neither did the adults.

Here are sisters Ani and Kiera playing in the puddle. That's their dad, Jeff, in the background, being ambushed by Grayson.

This is the block party in between the deluges.

Barb, Suzanne, Joan, and Jordia, carving out a quiet space to talk.

In full swing.

That's Kai Wheeler-Kay Cohen in the foregound, wet to the thighs. 

Suzanne and World's Cutest Child (tm) Keira.

Didn't I tell you she was the World's Cutest Child!?

Charlie Poodle

Brian and Teresa and Riley are on a two-week trip to Germany to visit friends (and enjoy an unexpected World Cup victory for their host nation). We volunteered to dog-sit Charlie, their standard poodle and a good friend of the family's. I like to call him Uncle Charlie, though as a nickname it hasn't taken root. Maybe Barb and the girls aren't familiar enough with My Three Sons. 

In any event, we got Charlie on Saturday -- so, three days ago. It's been fun, though taking care of an energetic dog like him is definitely a task. Not necessarily Herculean, but at least Ferrignoean. The girls love him, but Suzanne loves him so much it hurts. She loves to walk him. She'll fight you for the privilege of walking him. She loves hugging him, and straddling him as if he were a horse, and ordering him around ("Drop it, Chawlie!" she cries. "Drop it!" "Slow down, Chawlie!" "Sit, Chawlie, sit!"). He doesn't seem to mind. He's a good boy. When she came into our bed last night around four in the morning, she cried "Doggy!" in delight. She was much more thrilled that Charlie had crawled into bed with us than either of her parents. She often calls him "Basil," because her best friend Jasper has a standard poodle named Basil.

Thanks to Charlie, Suzanne is developing her throwing arm, slobber-be-damned.

And yet I maintain that we'll never own a dog.

Suzanne loves walking Charlie all by herself -- until he lunges forward and pulls her to the ground and she gets hurt.

Craftsgirls

Elizabeth concentrating hard on not going to the Emergency Room.

I didn't get a picture of it, but Suzanne, too was sawing away at a piece of wood the other evening. It started with Elizabeth, because I had carelessly left my hacksaw out. She decided to attack a piece of wood with the hacksaw. I intervened and gave her a real wood saw, and she was thrilled with the progress she made. She cut through this piece of wood at least twice... maybe three times.

Naturally, Suzanne wanted in on the action so I found a flat piece of trim (a 1x1/8"?) that she attacked with gusto if not skill. No one got cut, and of course both girls, when it was time to quit for the night, couldn't wait to resume the project in the morning, and of course they both forgot all about it as soon as their heads hit the pillows.