#Bend Oregon Event

[dhyzenmedia]

Gut Healing Jumpstart! April 27th -->> Half Day Immersion with Flow Zeda

[ocmontessoriacademy]

Official Presentation BENDERS

Our goal is to be the go-to solution for parties in Bend, Oregon by delivering exceptional services, unique themes, and out-of-the-box experiences with a simplified planning process to give time back to your busy schedule.

5417288680

hello@bendbenders.com

[ryan-realty]

Awbrey Village

Awbrey Village is a picturesque community located in the heart of Bend, Oregon. With tree-lined streets, well-manicured lawns, and charming homes, Awbrey Village is the perfect place for those seeking a peaceful and welcoming neighborhood to call home. The homes in Awbrey Village are designed with a classic Northwest style, featuring natural materials like wood and stone, and plenty of windows…

[rabbitbonesandsheabutter]

How do you think Dale would act if his singer partner leaves him for tour / working on their career (for a couple years) and then has a tour stop / concert back where he is? I feel like he would be both pissed off at them because they left him for that long but also be so happy to see them again. Dude... the sex would probably be feral.

He’d be sososo pissed off. He already feels inadequate because of his lack of success compared to you (I think he has some pretty deep regrets about not continuing with his music career, which based on the Sister Destroyer sample could’ve been pretty good), I just hope you’re in a different scene which would curb his envy a bit. When you tell him you’re leaving to go on tour, he would’ve begged and pleaded with you to take him with you. “I’ll be so good, do anything you tell me. Angel, please…”

Up until you’re set to leave he’d try desperately to prove how useful he can be: driving you to and from any rehearsals or local events you have, feeding you and bringing you drinks, and any free time you have is spent with his head between your legs. He wants to be as irreplaceable to you as you are to him.

When none of that works and you leave anyway, he’s inconsolable. Aside from maybe the process of making dolls, you’re the one thing making him happy. Serving satan by himself lost its appeal a long time ago. While you’re gone he just mopes about, back to leaving the dolls with Ruth and waiting around in the basement. I’m not sure if the devil is financing Dale’s life, but if he could afford to he’d definitely show up to any stops you had an unreasonable driving distance away before you actually got to Oregon. No one in their right mind is listening to this old man say he knows you, so he can’t get close but he forgets his anger the second he sees you on stage. He’s just desperate to see you again.

When you show up to see him, he’s fucking ecstatic. If you had other plans later, you don’t anymore. Nothing could get him to let go of you. He’s shedding some tears of relief at finally having you back, then feeling you pressed against him after so long is gonna make him horny. He is most definitely working out some of the built up emotions on you, bending you over the nearest surface with a tight grip on your hair and hip and setting a bruising pace. His fingers find their way into your mouth at some point, wanting as much of you around him as possible. The whole time he’s rambling on about never leaving him again. As he finishes he pulls you back up close to him, and maybe crying some more. He probably ends up overstimulating himself trying to drag it out. If you stay put he’s not pulling out, either. Just stood there breathing in your smell. It’s up to you to get him to move somewhere more comfortable or go clean up.

His usual clinginess is amplified by a lot. Any chance you had of leaving a room without him following is now gone. He’d forgive you quite quickly, though. Honestly, you could leave him again and again and he’d keep forgiving you when you showed up. My man has serious attachment issues and very slim chances of finding someone else to put up with his shit.

[xtruss]

Meet a New Generation of Black American ‘Cowboys’

With these images, photographer Kennedi Carter smashes an age-old stereotype: Cowboys aren’t all white men on horses, battling Indigenous people.

— Story and Photographs By Kennedi Carter | July 18, 2023

Doniyel Hooker bought her horse, Chance, in 2018. Whenever possible, Hooker, a math and science teacher, brings Chance to her elementary school to provide new experiences for her students. She’s ridden Chance on trails and even through the French Quarter of New Orleans.

The first time I saw a Black horseman, I was maybe six years old. I’m 24 now, grew up in the suburbs of Durham, North Carolina, but my mother’s family is from Dallas, and we’d drive back to visit. I remember this as one of those things where you’re chilling in the back seat, you see something crazy, your head does a complete 180. Cowboys! The white-man-on-a-horse archetype; battles with Indigenous people: That’s what I was most familiar with, from going to the movies with my grandfathers. So about five years ago, as I began to photograph on film, I thought it would be very interesting to turn that cowboy narrative inside out a bit. It’s always important to expand the narrow confines of what we perceive to be American culture, and how we as Black people sit inside it.

I’ve had a whirlpool of feelings, being a witness to these people. There’s a rich history of Black American cowboys, but for my work I’ve used the word “equestrian”—more inclusive now, I think. For a long time I observed from the ground, asking equestrians whether I could photograph them; I’d never ridden a horse myself until I climbed onto one while visiting trainer Silas Plummer outside New Orleans. Did I feel fully comfortable or at home? No. I thought a lot about not falling off. But in the Louisiana town where my grandfather was born, his sharecropper family didn’t have cars, so one assumes they were using horses or mules to get around. That was beautiful to circle back to, very ancestral.

And my biggest takeaway, working with all the equestrians, is just how alive they feel when they’re on a horse. There’s a freedom that comes from interacting with animals, with nature, with the land. This is what one form of that freedom looks like.

Horse trainer Silas Plummer holds Kash outside Child’s Arena stables in Bridge City, Louisiana. From wranglers to rodeo riders to jockeys, Black men and women have made their mark in many areas of horsemanship. In the United States, for example, an estimated one in four cowboys in the late 19th century was Black.

MaLana Lewis first rode a horse at age five during a camping trip. Her family later got her into barrel racing classes, and she has collected 24 first-place ribbons with her horse, Star. This photograph was taken in 2020, when Lewis was nine.

Left: Born to formerly enslaved parents in Texas, Bill Pickett became the best known Black rodeo star at the turn of the 20th century. He created the sport of bulldogging, or steer wrestling. Pickett performed around the world and was the first Black man inducted into the National Rodeo Hall of Fame. Courtesy North Fort Worth Historical Society

Right: After barrel racing as a teen, Esperanza Tervalon now trains with JaxieBaby in Bend, Oregon, to “go low and slow” in western pleasure riding competitions. The political consultant turns to horses to bring peace to her life. “I get centered. I always leave the barn feeling better than when I walked in.” Photograph By Kennedi Carter

In the early 1900s, Black communities held festivals and rodeos in cattle country across various southern states. Here a group of cowhands show off their steeds at the Negro State Fair on the Fannin County Fairgrounds north of Bonham, Texas, in 1911. The annual event involved four days of parades, music, and rodeos. Racers also competed for prizes of $2 to $50. Courtesy of Erwin E. Smith Collection of The Library of Congress On Deposit at Amon Carter Museum of American Art, Fort Worth, Texas

Trigger was Vinsha Torain’s first horse, and the two have ridden together since the college student was 13. Torain helps run the family ranch, started by her grandfather, in Siler City, North Carolina, and also heads Torain Ranch’s riding club, composed mainly of Black women.

Left: Nat Love, also known as Deadwood Dick, was born into slavery on a Tennessee plantation in 1854. After the Civil War he moved west and spent 20 years driving cattle. He got his nickname in Deadwood, South Dakota, after beating out every other competitor in roping and shooting contests.

Right: Isom Dart, born into slavery as Ned Huddleston in 1849 in Arkansas, was killed in 1900 in Colorado by a bounty hunter. A jack of many trades, including cook, miner, stunt rider, and horse and cattle thief, he was, ironically, shot for suspected cattle rustling once he’d gone straight. Courtesy Denver Public Library, Western History Collection

Jamel Robinson puts a client’s horse through exercises on a trail in Siler City. He started riding when he was four and training horses when he was 17. Robinson plans to stay in the business, which he learned from his father. “Horses keep me in a good mind space,” he says.

[justforbooks]

It is easily arguable that the most significant technique change in athletics was high jumping’s “Fosbury flop”. Dick Fosbury, who has died aged 76, invented the eponymous unconventional way of getting over the bar. In the words of the American coach John Tansley, “he literally turned his event upside down”, but besides the sport, the flop’s impact as a paradigm change was even more remarkable.

For millennia, humans had proceeded over obstacles in their paths one foot at a time. Even as the sport of athletics was refined, high jumpers basically followed the techniques of hurdlers and steeplechasers without considering that they, unlike those runners, did not have to continue to propel themselves forward after their jumps. The early “scissors” technique was essentially a hurdle of the bar; the later techniques, the “straddle��� and various rolls, looked the way their names implied. High jumpers preceding Fosbury were tall but strong, like sprinters, in the upper body.

The “flop” – which you can see hints of in the twisting rolls of great jumpers who preceded him, Charlie Dumas, John Thomas or Valeriy Brumel – did not come to Fosbury in a “eureka” moment, but as he tinkered with his traditional technique while still at high school in the early 1960s. He found himself moving his body more and more sideways, until finally he was jumping with his back to the bar, body parallel to the ground, and legs perpendicular to it. As his head and torso went over, he would kick his legs high, landing face up on his shoulders. The jump began to describe a parabola.

Despite his coach’s scepticism, the results were evident, and when a photo in the local paper was captioned “Fosbury Flops Over Bar”, the jump had acquired its name. Finishing second in the 1965 Oregon state championships as a senior, he jumped 6ft 5 ½in, fractionally under two metres.

There were others out there developing their own versions, notably the Canadian Debbie Brill, who, aged 17, won Commonwealth Games gold in 1970 at 17 using the “Brill bend”. Those innovators were aided by a small but significant development: high jumpers had always landed, on their feet or on hands and one foot, in pits of sand or sawdust; during the 60s, mats filled with foam rubber started to replace pits. As Dumas, who in 1956 became the first man to clear 7ft, explained in a 1986 interview, “I couldn’t have mastered [the flop]; I just didn’t have the range of motion. On the other hand, the floppers could never have jumped 7ft 8 or 9in and landed in sawdust pits like we did; they could break their necks.”

At Oregon State University, Fosbury’s college coach tried to switch him back to the “western roll”, but agreed to let him use the flop in his freshman team meets. In 1967, he broke the school record with a 6ft 10in (2.08m) leap; all talk of western rolls disappeared. The next year, he won his first of two national college titles clearing 7ft 2½in, then won the US Olympic trials in Los Angeles. But Olympic officials, afraid the flop would not work in the altitude of Mexico City, where the summer 1968 Games were to be held, scheduled a second trial above sea level. He scraped in as the third of three qualifiers, all clearing 2.20m, but Fosbury having more misses.

In Mexico City, he won his gold medal, the only jumper to clear an Olympic record 2.24m after a gruelling competition; he failed at three attempts to break Brumel’s world record of 2.28m. The Olympics introduced the Fosbury flop to the world, and showed fellow jumpers film of the style; previously most had seen only photos. By the time Munich staged the games in 1972, 28 of the 40 jumpers were “flopping”.

Born in Portland, Oregon, Fosbury grew up in Medford, where his father, Doug, drove a lumber truck and his mother, Helen (nee Childers), worked as a secretary and was a concert pianist. Fosbury grew tall (6ft 4in) but was not strong, weighing only around 13 stone throughout his career, and had been cut from his high school’s basketball and gridiron teams before finding his way into athletics.

He never equalled his performance in Mexico City and never broke the world record; Brumel’s mark fell to the American Pat Matzdorf, who cleared 2.29m, still using the straddle. But in 1973, Dwight Stones, who had watched Fosbury in Mexico as a 14-year-old, became the first world record-holding flopper at 2.30m, and virtually all jumpers since have flopped. The current world record is 2.45m, set by Cuba’s Javier Sotomayor in 1993.

Following Mexico, Fosbury returned to Oregon State, won his second NCAA title in 1969 and finished his civil engineering degree while competing on the amateur circuit. As more athletic jumpers adopted his technique, he failed to make the US team for the 1972 Munich Olympics. He joined the short-lived professional international track association tour in 1973, then retired and moved to Ketcham, Idaho, and set up a firm specialising in bike and running trails. He became a motivational speaker and author of books such as The Fosbury Flop: A New Philosophy for Success, and Leap of Faith: Overcoming Obstacles and Achieving Success.

He was also a vice-president of the US Olympic Association, served as a county commissioner, and ran unsuccessfully for Congress as a Democrat in conservative Idaho.

In 2008 he was diagnosed with lymphoma in his lower vertebrae; after spinal surgery and chemotherapy, the cancer went into remission. From 2011 to 2019 he served as president of the non-profit World Olympians Association.

With his third wife, Robin Tomasi, whom he met in a swing-dancing class, Fosbury ran a horse farm in Bellevue, Idaho. His first marriage, to Janet Jarvis, and second, to Karen Thomas, both ended in divorce; he is survived by Robin, by a son, Erich, and two stepdaughters, Stephanie and Kristen, from his second marriage, and by a sister, Gail.

🔔 Dick (Richard Douglas) Fosbury, high jumper, born 6 March 1947; died 12 March 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[ambienthousewife]

the complete list of official state affirmations

arkansas: your next door neighbor is not planning on blowing up your house. he is a nice man who makes ziti and has NO interest in arson nor personal revenge.

alaska: the wolves are NOT gossiping behind your back about your truck decals. they appreciate a fine piece of machinery such as your gmc

california: you WILL be able to get your celery juice morning fix before work today. inflation has NOT risen its price to $11

delaware: the irs has NO interest in investigating you for an illegal importing business. the package at your doorstep labeled "bosnia" IS discreet and out of sight

florida: there are CERTAINLY enough parking spots available at the event you are attending. the city planners have SPECIFICALLY had this in mind when designing the map

hawaii: jimmy buffett is GUARANTEED to suffer a horrific accident in his remaining lifetime. he WILL suffer a tragic demise

illinois: your local grocery has NOT started putting eyeballs in your food. they have NO interest in doing such a thing

iowa: the makeup you got from the dollar store DOES look good and not tacky. the cheapest mascara WILL serve you well today

louisiana: the ghost of don pardo IS benign and friendly. he has NO interest in causing misfortune upon your property

maryland: you WILL one day be able to do anal. with enough lube and practice, it is a CERTAINTY and nothing to worry about

massachusetts: the position open as a 'professional accordion player' on indeed is NOT a scam. this IS the position you have been waiting for your entire life

minnesota: super mario 64 is just a video game and is in NO WAY a manifestation of your worst childhood nightmares. please get some solid rest

mississippi: you WILL impress your colleagues at the work karaoke party. "everybody knows" by leonard cohen is a SUPERB choice of song for this occasion

nevada: NOBODY knows about the time you peed yourself at comic con. it was discreet and you are the ONLY person that knows such a thing happened. and it's not even that big of a deal

new jersey: no, your mom did NOT call you on the 10 year anniversary of the night her house burnt down. she survived but passed away 4 years ago from unrelated causes.

new mexico: santa claus WILL bring you all the toys you wanted for christmas this year. you are NOT on his naughty list

new york: all the kids that bullied you for wanting to marry simon le bon from duran duran are IRRELEVANT now. you can plan your own fictional wedding with simon le bon from duran duran and there is NOTHING anyone can do to stop it

ohio: the giraffe that tried to kill you as an 8 year old is NOT the same one that just escaped the zoo. that is a different giraffe. the one that tried to kill you PERISHED 13 years ago in a boating accident

oregon: one day you WILL be able to vape your estrogen. the world's top scientists are working on it right now.

rhode island: you will NOT fall for another 'joe mama' joke. you know the rules now and your mind is as SHARP as a tack today

south dakota: this goth girl on tinder FOR SURE wants to have sexual intercourse with you. the invader zim hoodie is a GREAT choice of outfit for a first date

texas: everybody LOVED your noise show performance. the circuit bended childrens keyboard from goodwill you made did an AMAZING job

utah: all the other moms thought your casserole was DELICIOUS. they are NOT saying mean things to you behind your back because your husband made chocolate chip pancakes once. that alone does not make a man too fruity

washington: this costco is where a panic attack will NOT be had today. you WILL be able to get your bulk groceries and not cry in the store. in the car is fine enough

wisconsin: the exterminator you hired is NOT an ant in disguise. that is IMPOSSIBLE. he is also NOT a sex offender you checked the records before hiring him.

wyoming: that copy of infinite jest you have on the shelf will be FULLY read one day. you will get around to finishing it one day SOON

[shamandrummer]

The Sweat Lodge Ceremony

In September of 1991, I began hosting a weekly teaching sweat lodge ceremony on four acres of secluded, unimproved forest land that my wife and I owned near Bend, Oregon. The ceremonies were conducted by Wasco elder Les Thomas and Oglala Lakota elder Don Fasthorse. Many people gathered to learn, and then left the group to teach others. The sweat lodge is as a spiritual purification ceremony of rebirth, rejuvenation, emotional release and awakening. The ceremony serves to cleanse the body, mind and spirit while opening a path of communication between the spiritual and earthly realms. The intense heat generated by steam created from pouring water onto heated rocks is meant to encourage a sweating out of toxins and negative energy that create imbalance in life. Sweat lodge ceremonies are traditionally held for a variety of reasons: before warriors go into battle, before and after major rituals like vision quests or for personal purification.

Sweat lodges are unique dome-shaped structures approximately four to five feet high at the center. They are constructed from supple willow branches and covered with rugs, furs and blankets. When a sweat lodge is built according to tradition, it looks like the body of a turtle. This is because the structure represents Turtle Island or Mother Earth. Entering the lodge symbolizes going back into the womb. It provides a safe and secure place to pray for self, others and all our relations. During the ceremony, spirits are invoked, drums are played and songs are sung. Spirits will enter and sing along with the participants and may even talk to them as well. If a person is not ready to hear the spirits, the spirits may not let that person hear them. Only those who are ready to hear the spirits may hear them because that is how compassionate the spirits are.

The Lakota term for sweat lodge is inipi, which translates to "Stone People Lodge." The Stone People, who are often referred to as the "grandfathers," come from the womb of our Mother Earth. The purpose of the inipi is to return to the womb of Maka (Earth) to be recreated. The Stone People become alive again when their spirits come into the Stone People Lodge. Then you can visit with them and tell them your problems. Then the power that pollutes our mind can be released. The fire from the womb of the Earth Mother will come in and destroy bad thoughts and words. Only good thoughts and words will remain. The spirits of the Stone People return our power to us. That's what Spirit does -- the Stone People, fire, water and green (the plants). The inipi is a place of healing, of purification and of prayer for all life.

A sweat lodge typically has four doors (or rounds) to the four directions (or winds), represented with colors, spirit guides and different elements. The number four has long been considered a sacred number in shamanism and Native American spirituality. All events and actions are based on this number because everything was created in fours. The Great Mystery reveals itself as the powers of the four directions, and these four powers provide the organizing principle for everything that exists in the world. There are four winds, four seasons, four elements, four phases of the moon, four stages to humanity's spiritual evolution, and so on.

The whole process is modeled after the Medicine Wheel, which is a universal symbol that can be found in many Indigenous cultures around the world. The Medicine Wheel represents the natural cycles of life and the basic way in which the natural world moves and evolves. The Medicine Wheel represents the archetypal journey each of us takes in life. This journey has four stages or rounds, each associated with a cardinal direction. Four rounds signify fullness, wholeness or completion.

[rabbitcruiser]

Wear a Dress Day

A dress-wearing day is a rare occurrence for some, but just like any  other day for others. Happening twice a year, on June 1st and December  1st, Wear a Dress Day is "simply a day to wear a dress and have fun."  The idea for the day came from a discussion in Bend, Oregon, in April  2010, about how beautiful dresses are, and about how they should be worn  more often. By the end of May, over 100,000 people had RSVP'd to attend  a Facebook event for the day. People have been wearing dresses at least  twice a year ever since!

There are a wide variety of styles of dresses which are worn for  numerous social occasions. Dresses date to ancient times and have  changed in style over thousands of years. By the early nineteenth  century, dresses were rather lightweight and simple. This changed in the  1830s when oversized dresses with puffy sleeves became the norm. By  mid-century, extra-large dresses were formed with crinolines, which went  under skirts and were made of steel wire or other materials. But  fashion shifted again during the following decade, and cinch corsets  that accentuated small waists came to prominence. Victorian "bustle"  dresses, with flat skirts and bulky backs, reigned from the 1860s into  the 1890s. Inventions in the nineteenth century led to continued changes  in dresses in that century and the next. Elastic, safety pins, the electric iron, and the zip fastener all contributed to changes, as did the arrival of paper dress patterns, which led to an increase of dress sewing at home.

Knee-length dresses came into vogue during the 1920s, but more  conservative dresses were once again at the forefront in the 1930s.  Shorter hemlines returned during World War II, which can be attributed  to the need to conserve material. In 1947, Christian Dior introduced the  "New Look," which consisted of a style of long dresses with narrow  waists that emphasized the hourglass figures of women. Dresses  maintained a feminine look with full silhouettes until the mid-1960s  when the miniskirt came on the scene. Dresses became more informal and  relaxed at this time. In the present day, there are all kinds of styles  of dresses, and on Wear a Dress Day we wear whichever dress suits our  fancy!

How to Observe Wear a Dress Day

Celebrate  by wearing a dress! Wear your best dress or wear your favorite dress!  Wear a dress someone sewed you or buy a new dress! No matter which dress  you wear, make sure to spend the day having fun!

Source

[maneswork-blog]

The Ever Enchanting Bend Oregon

Bend, Oregon, is an enchanting destination that offers many activities and attractions for visitors. This captivating city is renowned for its natural beauty, cultural experiences, culinary delights, and hidden gems.

Nature enthusiasts will be delighted by Bend's awe-inspiring landscapes, particularly the majestic Cascade Mountains. Hiking trails offer breathtaking vistas, while mountain biking adventures provide thrilling experiences. During the winter, the mountains become a haven for skiing and snowboarding enthusiasts. Additionally, the pristine Deschutes River offers a serene setting for fishing.

Bend's vibrant arts and culture scene is another highlight. Throughout the year, the city hosts various festivals that showcase live music, talented local artisans, and captivating performances. The Les Schwab Amphitheater is iconic, attracting visitors with unforgettable concerts and outdoor events.

Food lovers will be spoiled for choice in Bend. Downtown Bend is a paradise for culinary enthusiasts, with numerous restaurants, cafes, and breweries offering a fusion of local and international flavors. Visitors can indulge in farm-to-table delicacies, sample handcrafted beers, and savor the region's finest wines.

Beyond its natural wonders and culinary offerings, Bend holds hidden gems waiting to be discovered. The High Desert Museum provides an immersive journey into the area's rich cultural heritage through captivating exhibits. The Old Mill District offers a vibrant ambiance where shopping, dining, and entertainment seamlessly blend. Exploring Historic Downtown allows visitors to soak up the charming atmosphere and discover unique shops and boutiques.

In conclusion, Bend, Oregon, promises an unforgettable experience for every visitor. Whether you seek adventure in nature, immerse yourself in cultural festivities, or indulge in delectable cuisine, this remarkable city will exceed your expectations. From the breathtaking Cascade Mountains to the vibrant arts and culture scene, Bend has something for everyone. Don't forget to explore the hidden gems that charm this fascinating destination. Discover the magic of Bend and create lifelong memories that will linger in your heart. For more detailed insights please, please click here

[dhyzenmedia]

First Friday in March - Breathscape & Music

First Friday at Hawthorn Healing arts begins at 6 p.m. Join us for Breathscape: An exploration in embodied breathing and the 5 elements, presented by Meghan Mahealani. Learn 5 elemental breaths to support you from the inside out.

[ryan-realty]

Awbrey Glen

Awbrey Glen is a premier gated community located in the heart of Bend, Oregon. The community is renowned for its luxurious homes and world-class golf course, making it the perfect place for those seeking the ultimate in luxury living and outdoor recreation. The homes in Awbrey Glen are designed to the highest standards, with an emphasis on quality, craftsmanship, and attention to detail. Each…

[orphancookie69]

4/2023: Redmond, OR!

I recently had my Great Grandfather on my (biological) dad’s side of the family pass away. In life, he chose to make Oregon his home. If you have seen any of my previous Oregon trip posts, they were to see him. While it is a sad reason as a family to gather, gather we must. 

4/14 Day 1: 

Flying compared to driving is so much shorter, but for me I just don’t like flying. We flew out of Burbank Airport on Avelo. Decent flight. Picked up a rental car, what better test drive right? Had lunch locally at Mo’s Egg House in Redmond, really good. The local hole in the walls when you leave town tend to have the best people too. Then we checked into Shilo Inns Hotel in Bend. We have stayed here before, but this time was the worst experience and it will be the last. We went to the viewing for my great grandfather. The day before a burial, the funeral parlor will place the body in a room so you can see them one last time. Some people do casket open, some closed. In some ways, it is good to see him one more time but...to think that cleaned up corpse is the last visual you have on the person is a little rough. We all went back to the hotel, and needed a meal and a drink. We went to Blacksteer Steakhouse & Saloon in Bend. Kind of a hipster place, but not bad. Came back and prepared for a long day to come. 

4/15 Day 2:

Everyone woke up at different times, by the time I was awake-I had breakfast waiting for me. There was a local donut shop, and they made a jelly donut but it was like a normal round donut with jelly in the center. Wonderful. We went to the ceremony and burial. The church service was terrible. Behind the scenes, there was debate about what not to say-what to say-who says it. Death brings out the worst in families. But man, no one was happy with that service. One of our party spoke, and it was beautiful. No one else spoke though. Someone else had arranged for a medal he earned in life to be pinned on him in death by the navy. We walked to the grave site. There was a military salute, a masonic send off, and it was an honorable service. We all gathered at a local family members home for reception. Those kind of events are odd-on one hand you want to see people you most likely are never going to see again. The other, you have a man who in death his two families collided. We came back to the hotel, and swam a bit in the pool. There is a local diner there, Shari’s, and it is so good. We got dinner and a pie. We came back, with plans to visit some beloved local things we usually hit when up here. 

4/16 Day 3:

The next day we stopped by the local McDonalds for breakfast. Then hit the road for Sisters, OR. There is so much cute shopping up there! I may have forgotten I only have a carry on to bring all the items back with me, but I made it work. We had lunch at Sister’s Saloon. We came back to the hotel, and unfortunately had issues with the degenerating hotel experience and someone walked in on one of our party while they were in the room. We had no cooperation from the hotel in resolving the matter, and filed a police report. We went to bed, preparing to fly out early in the morning. 

4/17 Day 4:

Woke up early, and gassed up the car. Did you know that Oregon is still one of those states that you can’t fill up your own gas? We dropped the rental car off, and boarded the plane. We took Alaska Airlines to LAX. Decent flight. Came back, and had to get ready for another trip. 

What did I learn from this trip? A lot. From the fact that I saw the family when I was little but have no recollection of it? That my family problems are not as bad as others? That funerals suck? That I want to be a mason? To always be safe rather than sorry, and lock your luggage? Am I glad I went? Yeah, but man-I could use a vacation. 

[nwbeerguide]

Portland's Ecliptic Brewing and Seattle's Ravenna Brewing team up to release Juicy Lager. The latest in Ecliptic's Cosmic Collaboration series!

image courtesy Ravenna Brewing

Press Release

Portland, Oregon. Earth … Ecliptic Brewing has partnered with Ravenna Brewing Co. of Seattle for a Cosmic Collaboration beer release. The third release in the series for 2023, Ecliptic + Ravenna Juicy Lager will ship April 19th in 16-ounce cans and draft.

Says Ecliptic’s Owner and Brewmaster, John Harris, “I met Tommy, Audra and the rest of the Ravenna crew last year. We had a good time tasting beers and talking about current beer styles and trends. I like collaborating with a Seattle brewery every year, and Ravenna was the perfect choice for 2023.”

Ecliptic + Ravenna Juicy Lager starts with Pale and Pilsner Malts and is topped off with Enigma, Cashmere, and Mandarina Bavaria hops. Notes of white grape, red currant, and citrus flavors round out this juicy brew, clocking in at 5.5% ABV.

“In the planning process,” continues Harris, “we landed on Enigma hops and brewing something other than an IPA. Both breweries love lager beer, and the concept of bringing the newer hop varieties and their juicy, citrus and slight tropical flavors/aromas into a beer just made sense. Thus, we bring to the universe a juicy lager beer- lending aromas and flavors reminiscent of ones you see in the IPA style, but in a lower ABV lager.”

Says the Ravenna team, “We loved meeting John and the Ecliptic team at our Seattle taproom last summer. As we chatted while sampling beers from our respective breweries, we talked styles, techniques, and ingredients we are all excited about. Sharing ideas with exceptional brewers is undoubtedly one of the best aspects of the industry. When John invited us to collaborate on a beer, the answer was an immediate and enthusiastic 'yes!'. Some of us on the brew team have been enjoying John's creations and contributions to the craft beer world for nearly twenty years, and it’s a treat to be able to put our heads together with John and Phil as we work on creating a beer to share with the community.”

Ecliptic + Ravenna Juicy Lager will be released in 16-ounce cans and draft throughout Ecliptic Brewing’s distribution network on April 19th. A release party is planned on April 27th in Portland, as well as May 2nd in Seattle. Visit Ecliptic’s website for up-to-date details on this release and release events.                                                                     

Ecliptic + Ravenna Juicy Lager Brewed with our friends at Ravenna Brewing, this lager starts with a clean malt base, then opens up a multiverse of flavor with a juicy mix of modern hops, including Enigma and Cashmere. The adventurous will be rewarded with white grape, red currant, and lime-orange citrus flavors bursting all at once on the palette.

ABV: 5.5% IBU: 35

…

About Ecliptic Brewing Ecliptic Brewing is a venture from John Harris, an Oregon beer icon whose background is steeped in the state’s rich craft brewing history. The name Ecliptic unites Harris’ two passions: brewing and astronomy. Ecliptic Brewing’s Mothership location opened in October of 2013 in North Portland and its second location – the Moon Room –opened in November of 2021 in Southeast Portland.

Ecliptic celebrates the Earth’s yearly journey around the sun through both its beer and restaurant menus. Harris’ signature beers include Ecliptic Starburst IPA, Phaser Hazy IPA, Carina Peach Sour Ale, Capella Porter, Pyxis Pilsner and LIGO West Coast IPA.

Ecliptic beers are available at the mothership brewery (825 North Cook St), the Moon Room (930 SE Oak St), in grocery stores, bottle shops, and on-tap throughout the area. They are distributed by: Maletis Beverage (Portland, Salem, Vancouver WA), Bigfoot Beverage (Eugene, Bend, Coast), Fort George Distributing (Northern Oregon Coast, Southern Washington Coast), Hodgen Distributing (Eastern Oregon), Summit Distribution (Southern Oregon), NW Beverages (Seattle, Tacoma), Odom (Eastern Washington, Northern ID), Dickerson Distributing (Bellingham), Hayden Beverage (Idaho), Crooked Stave Artisans (Colorado), Freedom Distributors (North Carolina), Arizona Beer & Cider (Arizona), Beer Thirst (Canada) and Tread Water (Japan).

For more information, visit: eclipticbrewing.com.

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from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3GOEIRn

[jodilinbio]

NOTE: This section was written in 2005 and edited in 2024.

The year 2005 has just begun, and I’ve been through some very drastic changes in the last few years. We lost our big, beautiful house (not for reasons I once feared), and we’ve now lived in Klamath Falls, Oregon, for just over a year.

Although I’m not sure this is the ideal place for us, and even though we haven’t been here long, I guess you could say I somewhat prefer Oregon over Arizona—at least, I think I do. I don’t like the cold and snow of Oregon, but it certainly has its pros over Arizona. Before I explain how and why we ended up here, I must first cover the events between March 2002 and June 2004.

Most of 2002 was uneventful, though it was still filled with the usual stresses and problems. Things kept breaking, money remained tight, and our old neighbors continued to rule our lives.

Scott surprised me in early April 2003 by telling me I could start reporting once a month instead of twice.

The biggest surprise came on the 30th of that month when the phone rang at 6:30 in the morning. As soon as I saw Scott’s name on the Caller ID, my heart pounded with anxiety. My first thought was that the freeloading assholes had done something else to me. After everything they’d already put me through, I was constantly fearful and paranoid, wondering what false accusations they might concoct to keep me trapped in their web of hatred. I feared they would try something just as my probation was due to end to keep it going—but that wasn’t for another six months.

Or so I thought.

“Hello?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady when I picked up the phone.

“Hey, it’s Scott. Did you hear the news?”

“No. What news? What’s wrong?”

That’s when he told me nothing was wrong, and that he was shocked to receive a fax that morning from the judge (a different one than the one who had screwed me), saying I was now off probation. The state had opposed it, of course, but that was it. I was free! Free!!!

I jumped for joy all day long, running up and down the house, laughing and grinning like a madwoman. It was so unexpected. I had no reason to believe this would happen. No one had given me any breaks before, so I’d long since given up hope. But sometimes life really is full of surprises.

Although I immensely enjoyed my newfound freedom—after seven long years of being chained to these sick people—I was also a bit apprehensive. I felt like a sitting duck. Would the news of my early release, something they would surely be furious about, provoke any vengeful behavior? Fortunately, nothing happened during the rest of our time in Arizona, which was a little over a year after Scott’s call. So, if they were simply biding their time to look less obvious, I was spared from whatever they might have done.

I vowed never to let this long, frustrating ordeal stop me from speaking my mind in the future, and I did—when the next person burned me.

That next person was Teddy Bear, though she didn’t hurt me nearly as much as the freeloaders had.

At the very end of 2001, Mary wrote to tell me that Teddy Bear had been transferred to Madison because of too many rumors about her flirting with inmates. Chavez was the one who told Mary, and that’s when I first started to doubt Teddy Bear’s promises of us getting together. First off, if you really liked and missed someone, wouldn’t you bend the rules a little, even if it meant not quite waiting a year? After all, it’s not like anyone would have seen us together way out in the boonies.

I also wondered what she thought when she saw my year-after-release letter sent to Estrella, assuming she didn’t know that I knew about the transfer. Did she figure it would be forwarded to her, or did she just not care? Sure enough, she never responded to my letter, even though I sent it directly to Madison in May 2002, letting her know Mary had told me about her transfer.

I was devastated when she blew me off without so much as a simple explanation. I cried for four months straight and was even tempted to run back to Helen, but I knew Helen couldn’t change anything, and eventually, I’d get over her—and I did. In the end, I was glad Teddy Bear ignored my letter, knowing her presence might have put Tom in an awkward position, even though we were evolving into just good friends like most long-term couples.

Still, I was determined to give her a piece of my mind without letting past experiences stop me. So, just a few months after getting off probation, I sent her a letter. I wasn’t trying to get her fired or seek revenge. I just wanted her to know she played with my emotions, and that I wasn’t some object without feelings.

For reasons unknown to me, my psychic abilities intensified during our time in Maricopa. I was able to “influence” more than half the scratch tickets we bought, though they usually only won a few bucks each.

Tom was searching for an old pickup truck to have a backup vehicle and something to haul large items. He was looking for one made in the 80s, but in my visions, I saw a 70s truck in either white or gold. Sure enough, for $500, he found two dumpy Datsuns. One was a green ‘77, the other a white ‘79. He stripped the green one and used its parts to get the white one running, which took several months.

The first time our well went out was in late 2001. I predicted it would happen again two years later, and unfortunately, it did—just two weeks shy of the date.

Now, here’s how we ended up here. For years, I said that once we freed ourselves from the welfare bum’s grip, we’d plunge into a whole new long-term crisis—and we did. One that would alter our lives in a very big way.

In June 2003, Bank of America fired Tom for speaking out against bringing religion into the workplace. We were both frustrated, and still are, with how so many people mix religion, along with beliefs we consider hogwash, into almost everything and try to force it on others. Hey, not everyone is religious, but some people just don’t seem to understand that. Arizona, being a predominantly non-white Christian state, didn’t support his refusal to conform, so he was let go.

I found it unnerving, even scary, to know that someone I’d never met could turn our lives upside down so easily, leaving us with no way to fight back. People often fail to realize the long-term effects of vengeful behavior on others. As I had asked myself many times when the sick assholes from Phoenix had control over our lives: How could someone have such power and leave us so helpless?

My faith in God was shattered. I felt like some force had it in for us, pitting one person after another against us—people we were powerless to fight.

Tom started collecting unemployment while searching for a job that could cover our expenses. After two months with no luck, he had to settle for a minimum-wage job at a Nissan proving grounds in August. The only benefit was that it was close to home. Although they kept promising him benefits and a raise, he was forced to quit by late November and return to unemployment. It seemed pointless to work for the same amount he could collect by not working, and besides, we needed time to prep the house for sale once it became clear we were going to lose it.

As sad as I was to leave our spacious home, beautifully furnished and decorated, I was also relieved. We both were. Tom never liked the house, calling it a waste of space and not cozy. Plus, we had gone through so much trouble with it—leaky pipes, a broken hot water tank, well issues, loose dogs, and trash blowing onto our land. People in the area didn’t secure their trash well, and without proper trash services, the high winds scattered debris everywhere. The neighborhood was also building up fast. Three new houses appeared in front of our neighbors during our final months, and there were now three rental properties behind us with two more on the way. It was getting noisier, too.

Sometimes I wondered if something evil inhabited the land, or maybe even the house itself. Foul odors would appear for hours without explanation. I also slept worse there than I did in our Phoenix home. Between sonic booms, loud engines, and random knocking from either people or woodpeckers, I was lucky to get more than a few nights a week of undisturbed sleep.

We wanted to find a more secluded place with greater privacy. We realized we had bitten off more than we could chew with the Maricopa property and thought it would be best not to go for something as extravagant next time. We figured a wooded area would provide the privacy we wanted, which wasn’t possible in the flat open desert without money to plant trees and hedges.

We decided Oregon would be our best option with its mountainous, forested terrain. We won a 2.3-acre parcel of land on eBay from a man named Michael in Portland. The land was located in the Klamath Falls Forest Estate near the California border. Neither of us had ever been to Oregon, though Tom thought he might have visited relatives there as a child. I wasn’t thrilled about returning to a place with a cold, snowy climate but figured it might be okay now that I didn’t have to walk or ride a bike to school like I did as a kid—or run errands like I had to as an adult in Springfield.

I wondered if there was something wrong with Oregon since the population was relatively low. I assumed it was just because the weather was so cold and snowy in most parts, though Portland didn’t get as cold as Klamath Falls. It rained more there instead.

After Tom left the proving grounds, we went on a selling spree, selling old items on eBay and at local swap meets. He sold old computer equipment, and I sold collectible dolls I no longer wanted. The first time we sold stuff at a swap meet, we did well. The second time, not as much, but by then, it was so hot no one wanted to stay outside for long.

On December 28, 2004, I grew so fed up with the congestion my inhalers were causing that I placed one of my spells on myself—something I’d somehow mastered—and quit them altogether. After moving to Oregon, I lost most of the lung tightness I had and found myself breathing better than ever.

In February 2004, we got Blondie, the rat we still have. I thought no rat could compare to Little Buddy, but Blondie surpassed him by far! He’s the most loving, smart, and dog-like rat we’ve ever had. Not many rats will climb up your leg to see you after exploring for a while. He even jumps up on the bed by climbing the comforter.

In late April, we contacted a realtor who found us an investor to buy our house. Since we didn’t have time to sell it properly, we were forced to settle for a measly five grand. Huey, the buyer, understood our frustrations with the bank and how they were jerking us around and withholding information. We knew we couldn’t trust anything the bank said anyway, given how they falsified documents—something Tom had witnessed several times while working there.

Huey wanted to divide the 10-acre parcel into five 2-acre lots. We sold the place to him on April 27 and were given until June 12 to leave, which happened to be Huey’s birthday. He said to contact him if we needed more time.

We also won a 20-foot 1975 Midas RV for $1,500 on eBay, which we called Gert because it was so old and ugly. The plan was to live in that, along with any tents or small sheds we might build, until we could construct a dome house—a project we estimated would take two to three years. We also planned to install solar panels since our land was 1,500 feet from the nearest power lines. But as I learned over and over, life rarely goes according to plan. It seemed like every time we made a plan, we ended up doing something entirely different. More and more, I felt like we were just leaves blowing in the wind, destined to end up wherever fate took us.

During the next month and a half, we sold off most of our furniture. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get nearly what it was worth, but it was better than nothing. A Mexican family that owned a furniture store bought most of it, including our 1991 Ford Taurus.

The last few days in Arizona were hot, hectic, and filled with emotion. At one point, I stood in the middle of my empty office and cried, thinking of all the stories I’d written in that room, the journal entries, and the music I’d listened to. Then I remembered all the stress, the unhappy journal entries, and that made up for it—at least some of it anyway. Tom was excited to leave, and so was I, though I knew I would miss the house.

The move from Arizona to Oregon turned out to be harder than the move from Phoenix, even though we had far less stuff. This time, we had to cram everything into the RV, plus the truck towing it.