Started off with catching a glimpse and wonderful music of our youth string group warming up pre-service at St. P.’s early Sunday morning.

Under the direction of Texas Tech alum Will Balch.

Monday,  I walked over to the hospital for a routine MRI of my brain.

Perfectly normal.  I guess an MRI cannot show “absolutely bonkers.”

Then, on Tuesday, Oregon went for Bernie.

Wednesday, I gave the little porch chair a new cushion of moss.

Thursday, I drove to the Wilco in Stayton to get some seed potatoes

I’ll probably never go there again when “ours” opens in my neighborhood in the fall.

This is the old Safeway location.

And I doubt I’ll ever buy clothes anyplace else after that.

I was able to get two special varieties of potato:

On Friday, John tilled the bed and I set the potatoes into their holes.

Always with the photo-bomber!

Then early this morning, as I typically do, I went out back for my walk around.  So often, this turns out to be a spiritual experience.

The roses were in full bloom, and that wonderful old Cokesbury hymn began to sing in my (perfectly normal) head.

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses.”

Again with the photo-bomber.

And I began to think how very lucky I am.  See that little shed in the background?

Here is a close up.

In the past, it has been a play house and a dog house.  It’s where I store my yard furniture in the winter.

Anyway, as I walked back into my beautiful house, I thought about how many people there are in this crazy world who would be so grateful to have my shed to live in.

Here endeth the lesson and the week.

Since all voting in Oregon is by mail, we don’t really have a “day.”  But if the USPS hasn’t delivered your completed ballot by today, you’re going to have to drive it over to a designated drop-off location this afternoon.

Voting by mail works really well. It’s convenient,  cost effective, and pretty much precludes opportunities for cheating.

One of our senators, Ron Wyden, was the first U.S. official elected entirely by mail. He is now campaigning for all federal elections to be by mail.  On NPR this morning, he cited the difficulties about actually having to go to a polling place to vote.  Transportation.  Child care.  Physical disabilities.  Time off work. Waiting in long lines.

The word he used to describe these inconveniences was “kafkaesque.” Listen, I’d vote for that man just because he said that.  Actually, I voted for him before I heard him say that.

Words do matter.  There is another candidate running out there right now who said to a crowd, “I know words, I have the best words.”  Not.

The thought of his being our president is definitely the K word.

Elizabeth and Matt and their three dogs arrived at 1880 last week in time for a quick visit before Matt had to get to SEA-TAC to fly back to CO for work. (The fly-fishing season opened.)

That night, we all pitched in to create a gourmet pizza — creme fraiche, caramelized onions, gruyere, bacon — which we ate under the arbor with some special local beer to wash things down.

E and M left early the next morning to show Matt the Oregon coast.  Maui girl Gypsy was not deterred by the cooler ocean temps than what she was used to.

They camped that night at Rainbow Falls State Park in Washington

After she dropped Matt off at the airport, she and I met up at Coldwater Lake and had an amazing Mother’s Day paddle below the north face of Mt. St. Helen’s.

The mountain is shrouded in clouds, making for perfect paddling weather.

Just a little further on, we took out for a special picnic lunch.

The rest of the week was a whirlwind of all the things we love to do when Elizabeth is here Old movie at the Elsinore.  New movie in Independence. Tillamook cheese burger at Burgerville. Cake from Konditorei ( gift from Matt before he left), La Margarita. Duty-free shopping.

We found time for another meal under the arbor.  This time, salade nicoise.

Then, this morning, we woke up to discover that our week of beautiful summery weather had morphed into a lovely Oregon rain.

Three dogs found plenty of room in the faithful Tahoe.

And they departed, heading home to Colorado.

Roxie, Rosie, and I got back into bed for a lazy morning to finish drinking coffee and read the newspaper.

And soon it was time to pick up Barb for our traditional shopping spree at the Saturday Market.  Lots of roses in front of her place.

Oregon people are not deterred in the least by a showery morning, so there was a good crowd at the market.

What a lovely week! (And now, Barb’s cooking dinner for me! Do you get the idea that food plays a significant part in my life?)

The wild ones are blooming at the Minto.

And the first of the season at 1880:

Time to vote around here. Not hard to vote in Oregon and we have virtually non-existent voter fraud.  No one much complains about that around here.  In some states, (think Texas)  they worry about this a lot.  Ironically, the statistics show that Texas has very little voter fraud either. Much ado.

Of course, the “founding fathers” never intended that I should vote.  “Founding Fathers” has sort of the same ring to it as “Our Father in Heaven.”

Of course, the founders were, indeed all men.  Possibly biological fathers.  I’m not sure.  But when they wrote “by the people,” they certainly did not mean all the people.

We must see them in their time and place.  Wealthy, well-read white men.  Property owners.  Some slave-owners among them.

They meant people like them when they wrote “We the people.”  Anything else made no sense.  Educated, landed men.   Certainly not the uneducated, women, or the un-white.   They had the natural assumption of  a narrow educated, self-governing  populace.  Nothing else occurred to them.

Actually, the plan they came up with really only works well with an educated — or at least an informed — constituency.  You just have to know stuff to be able to make democracy work.

You need to be able to read and listen and understand, and think critically to sort through what you’ve read and heard.  Sure helps if you know history and don’t just pick up stuff from the TV. Or listen to people who deify The Founders.  And you’d better get your hands on your original birth certificate and a government-issued photo ID.

As always here in Oregon, my primary election ballot was delivered by mail.  Since I am registered as a particular party member, my ballot just lists candidates of that party so that part is easy.  Now I have to decide on such things as “male and female precinct committee persons,” and Marion County Assessor.  I actually need to research this person, although he is running unopposed.  There is a place to write-in my choice.  I think I’ll just write in myself.  If the assessed value of 1880 goes up any more, I’ll need to move to a less “affluent” neighborhood.