Encaustic badass

Posted by random olio

Each year a few days away from our anniversary, we venture to the Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts. We try to go on Friday so that if we fall in love with a piece of artwork, there is still the possibility that it has not been sold. We have had this tradition for quite a few years, and sometimes we do not find or purchase anything and other years we come home with grins and excitement to go back on Sunday to pick up our new piece.

This year we came home with smiles across our face. Karl Kaiser’s talented encaustic work has come home to hang on our walls, and we also got to meet him at the Festival of the Arts. I am enamored with his work. If you are not familiar with encaustic, I encourage you to check out his blog as he will show you how he does some of his pieces. Encaustic is a form of painting using hot beeswax. Many encaustic artists mix their own colors, and you will find that each artist has a very different finished piece of work.

I have been wanting to start doing my own pieces, and had always been told that I would need a blow torch. Based on my multi-tasking and often dream world thinking Chris has not wanted me to have a blow torch in the house. To my excitement, Karl let us know that I could use butane to start out.

The piece you see is many, many layers of wax cut down and embedded into another piece. I love the rich color that he has brought into this piece. If you want to follow Karl’s work, you can like him on Facebook, check out his website, or his blog.

Photo Cops Suck.

Posted by random olio

Ugh. Yes. I started my blog out with ugh. Photo cops. Vans with computerized radar guns. They sit in camouflaged areas in hopes of nailing speeders. I drove past one over the weekend, and my mind started to wonder, why do we have photo cops? A few years ago I got a speeding ticket while going over a bridge in Portland. It is hard to explain my side of the story because it was on a bridge where the speed limit changes three times while on the bridge. I never noticed the photo cop, and other than an address on the ticket that does not really exist (it is a bridge) it is hard to know where they took a photo of my car. The ticket showed I was speeding at the start of the bridge, and my 6 mph over the speed limit came out to a $200 ticket. All taken by a van with a radar camera.

Here is what I found out: The photo radar van can take two photos every second. There is an uniformed officer stationed in the van. I always thought they parked the vans and came back later. If there is an officer in the van, why not put the lights on and come after the offender? $200 seems like a hefty fine for 6 mph over the speed limit, which made me think it was another way for Portland to make more money, but their website states that any money from paid speeding tickets goes back to the photo radar program.

My frustration with photo cops: If you are going to give me a speeding ticket, follow me in a cop car, pull me over and give me a ticket. Do not rely on a van with a computer. It feels like calling a company and being repeatedly sent through the automated prompts on their phone line, over and over again. I want the personal interaction of the cop that pulls me over, let him yell at me, or let me explain where my head was, or about the signs, or let me just admit I was speeding. I would take that any day to receiving an envelope in the mail days or weeks later with a high price tag. A ticket in the mail seems more passive aggressive. Right?

I know they are supposed to deter drivers from speeding, but it feels like getting caught sneaking out at night by a robot rather than your parents. What do you think?

How much would you pay for a parking space?

Posted by random olio

Chris and I used to live in Boston, where parking spaces would sell for tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Renting an apartment was expensive enough, not to mention finding a parking space when you did not own one. Now that I live in the Pacific Northwest, even the process of renting an apartment is different. Ten years ago when we lived in Boston, you would have to give a landlord the first month of rent, last month, sometimes a security deposit, and a realtor fee. If the apartment was $1000 a month (which was definitely on the low side) that would mean $4000. A lot of money just to move into a place. Yes, $3000 was investing in your future, but the $1000 to the realtor was lost.

All cities are different. No rental process is alike in each city. Portland has nothing on Boston. Which I appreciate. When we moved to Portland, we thought, oh we just need to have the cash to move in, instead Portland is very particular in a different way. Landlords in Portland want to ensure that you have a job and you can prove your monthly income. It makes sense due to the high homeless population. Landlords want to know you will continue to be able to pay your rent. I understand that completely, but it is just so different from Boston.

Portlanders complain about finding parking spaces, just like any other city, but I know Portland does not have quite the market on parking spaces that Boston or New York have. I recently read an article that discusses the IRS auctioning off two parking spaces in Boston for a man who owed back taxes. The parking spaces sold for $560,000. It is shocking to think how much someone paid for a parking space, especially since it is much, much more than many pay for their homes.

How much would you pay to own a parking space?

Friends, Cribbage, and a Phone #?

Posted by random olio

Last week, I met a friend at a local bar to hang out and play Cribbage. Yes, you heard me right, Cribbage. Do you know the game? My father taught me when I was in elementary school. I wanted to learn so that I could play with him. Knowing how to play his favorite games meant that was more time I could spend with him, which as I remember was not too often. There are a few activities you could do 1:1 with him. Circle word puzzles and cribbage were top on his list. Over the years I would play here and there and after a long stint of not playing I would have to refresh my memory. Somehow it is like riding a bike, it always comes back to me.

handmade cribbage board

Which is why I was happily surprised when two different waiters and a bartender walked by our table outside (thank you Portland heat lamps) and asked about our Cribbage game. They actually knew what we were playing. They even commented on my beautiful Cribbage board (purchased at the Portland Saturday Market). What is it about the game of Cribbage that piques the interest of others? One waiter mentioned watching his grandfather and father playing on the beach. He said he had a very specific image in his head, stated to us with a smile on his face.

I would like to tell you that we finished our game and I kicked my friend’s butt, but we never finished our game. Instead we talked about life, love, and included a few 15, 2 and 15, 4’s in the mix. (Savvy Cribbage players will understand).

Word to the wise, for those of you looking for a date. If you live in Portland, bring along a Cribbage board. The three men that stopped us were not to shabby (don’t worry I told Chris). I think a deck of cards, some pegs, and a nice handmade board might be just the way to get an extra wink and maybe a phone number.

#cribbagelove

My first half marathon

Posted by random olio

At the 9th mile

Yesterday I ran my first half marathon! I cannot believe I am actually saying this, but I enjoyed it. I was a bit emotional at the start line because my stomach was not agreeing with me. I was worried about that, as I do not usually run so early in the morning, but once I got started I was fine. There was a slight drizzle, and a cold 42 degrees, but as the minutes passed, the rain chilled out. I was definitely grateful for my Nike running jacket, to keep the moisture away and keep me warm.

stopped train…

The strange part about the race? Trains. Yes, trains. About 1/4 of the way through the race, all runners were stopped. We had to wait at least 10 minutes to wait for a cargo train that was STOPPED on the tracks. You know what it is like when you are in a car waiting at the train tracks for a train to move, then when it does it starts going slowly. Except it was freezing, drizzling, and we had just started our race. It was a bit unbelievable.

After passing the Finish Line. #pooped

They have yet to post the times of the race. They said they would fix our times due to the train that stopped the race, so it is taking them longer. The clock said 2:02 when I crossed the Finish Line, so I believe my time was just over 1 hour and 50 minutes with the adjusted train time.

What would I do differently next time? Set up a play list so I would not have to scroll through Spotify on my iPhone while running.

#whatraceisnext?