A long, hot bath on a Saturday morning is my favorite way to fight a lingering cold. If Kris decides to put U2 in the CD player, so much the better.
Ah. My inner core is warmed.
I’ve spent several hours this week editing fifty minutes of footage from last Sunday�’s soccer game. My goal was to create a single four- or five-minute montage set to music, but my editing skills aren’�t keen enough yet. The montage is ten minutes long and set to three songs (“Tubthumping” by Chumbawumba, “Crash” by the Pixies, and “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths). A lot of rough footage remains in the movie, but it’s more fun to have it there than to take it out.
After working with iMovie for eight to ten hours, I retract my earlier casual dismissal of the software. Perhaps there are better applications for video editing, but certainly none can match the price. And iMovie is full-featured enough for me to create films with which I am quite happy.
Spending so long with footage of FC Saints reinforces how much I enjoy playing soccer with this team. We may not be skilled — in fact we all have glaring weaknesses — but we play with enthusiasm and “heart”. We have a good chance to earn a win or two during the final four weeks of the season.
In the fall and winter, Kris and I occasionally buy hams and sausages from Voget Meats in Hubbard. Voget’s is an example of the type of business I try to support: it’s small, family owned, and has been in the community for seventy years. Their meats are outstanding. When I was a child, it was a treat when Dad would bring home sausage from Voget’�s and fry it for dinner.
When I bought the ham for tonight’s book group, the woman told me, “This is a great ham.” I don’t know what she meant by that. How can she tell it’s great? What makes this ham better than any other ham from Voget’s?
Kris and I just put the ham in the oven. It smells delicious: smoky and salty and, well, porky. This afternoon is going to be fantastic as the aroma of the ham fills the house.
Fall is here.
This autumn is a little unusual for Oregon: it is clear and warm during the day, cool and crisp at night. It’s typical fall weather for many parts of the country, but not so much for Oregon. By this time in October, we’ve usually had nearly an inch-and-a-half of rain, and the days have turned cool, with highs in the low sixties. This October we’ve only had about half and inch of rain, nearly all of which fell on the third. In five out of the past six days the high temperature has exceeded seventy degrees; it was eighty degrees on Wednesday, a record high!
I’m sure that rain is just around the corner.
This afternoon I walked over to the high school and practiced punting the soccer ball. When I was satisfied with my progress, I sprawled on the grass and basked in the dull October sun. It was quiet. Birds chirped in the woods. A fly buzzed. Somewhere in one of the housing developments somebody revved a chainsaw. I was alone. On the field. In the sun.
It was quiet.
I felt fine.
Two boys interrupted my reverie by jogging out of the woods and onto the field, passing an orange soccer ball between them. Their talk was filled with plans for the future. I sat up, smiled at them, picked up my gear, and walked home.
Last night at Powell’s I was transfixed by the Atlas of Oregon for twenty minutes, yet barely read ten pages. The book is fantastic, filled with facts and figures, charts and graphs, every piece of information about Oregon one could possibly desire. I must have this book.
On 19 October 2002 (03:44 PM),
On 20 October 2002 (09:40 PM),
Bill Conwell said:
On 21 October 2002 (01:28 PM),
On 21 October 2002 (02:16 PM),
Tammy J said: