More spring downtown, taken two days ago.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
More spring downtown, taken two days ago.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
I am looking through photographs looking for a Satyr. Or Satyrs. I know that I have Fauns on a frieze in a very peculiar old repurposed Elks Club in Portland, but Fauns are not quite Satyrs. And satirical is from a different origin than Satyr.
Really, though, I am surprised that no one was dressed as a Satyr at the Great Port Townsend Kinetic Sculpture Race.

The costumes are always amazing.
Here is a sculpture with the rider. A Satyr or not?

This is the day before the race, with the parade and the brake test and the water test. The water is in the 40s or low 50s.
What do we call a female Satyr?

No, surely she is not one. Will the Judges permit Satyrs?

It does not appear that they will.
The cover picture is most satirical to me: the joyful silliness of the human powered race, on land, on sea and through mud, with a sailboat race in the background and Indian Island, with a crane and a military presence. Let’s have more more more joyful silliness.
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The Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Sculpture Race: https://www.ptkineticrace.org/
This is the 2018 Race.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Satyr.
“amongst those who treat addicts of any kind generally agree that anger and shame help no one and is actively counter-productive.”*
Wait.
I have to think about that statement.
I do not agree at all.
Ok, for the physician/ARNP/PAC, anger at the patient and shaming the patient are not good practice, don’t work, and could make them worse. BUT anger and shame come up.
In many patients.
Sometimes it goes like this with opioid overuse: the person shows up, gets on buprenorphine, and is clean.
It may be a long time since they have been “clean”.
One young man wants to know WHY I am treating him as an opioid overuse patient. “Why are you treating me like an addict?”
I try to be patient. I recommended that he go inpatient, because I don’t think we will cut through the denial outpatient. Very high risk of relapse. “You have been buying oxycodone on the street for more than ten years.”
“I’ve been buying it for back pain, not to party.”
“Did you ever see a doctor about the back pain?”
“Well, no.”
“Buying it illegally is one of the criteria of opiate overuse.”
“But I’m not an addict! I’ve never tried heroin! I have never used needles!”
“We can go through the criteria again.”
He shakes his head.
He is in denial. He is fine. He doesn’t need inpatient. He is super confident, gets work again, is super proud.
And then angry. “My family still won’t talk to me!”
“Um, yes.”
“I’m clean. I’m going to the stupid AA/NA groups! Though I don’t need to. I’m fine!”
“What have you noticed at the groups?”
“What a bunch of liars!” he says, angry. “There are people court ordered there and they are still using! I can tell. They are lying through their teeth!”
“Obvious, huh?”
“Yeah!”
“Did you ever lie while you were taking the oxycodone?”
Now he ducks his head and looks down. “Well, maybe. A little.”
“Do you think your family and friends could tell?”
He glances up at me and away. “Maybe.”
“Your family may be angry and may have trouble trusting you for a while.”
“But I’ve been clean for four months!”
“How many years did you tell untruths?”
“Well.”
Shame and anger. Anger from the family and old friends, who have heard the story before, who are not inclined to trust, who are hurt and sad. The first hurdle is getting clean, but that is only the first one. Repairing relationships takes time and some people may refuse and they have that right! Sometimes patients are shocked that now that they are clean, a relationship can’t be repaired. Or that it may take years to repair. My overuse folks are not exactly used to being patient. And sometimes as they realize how upset the family and friends are, they are very ashamed. And some are very sad, at years lost, and friendships, and loved ones. I have had at least one person disappear, to relapse, after describing introducing someone else to heroin. He died about two years later, in his forties.
Shame and anger definitely come up in overuse illness.
The above is not a single patient, but cobbled together from more than one.
______________________
*from an essay titled “F—ing yes, I’m a fatphobe” on everything2.com. Today there are two with that title. The quotation is from the second essay.
Disarmed
unarmed
armless
without my right hand
unhandy
unable to shoulder much
diminished
injured
wounded
tendonitis
inflamed
irritated
limited
reduced range of motion
careful
out of reach
guarded dancing
sinister takes over
left fills in
ow
______________
I am going through physical therapy for a right biceps tendonitis. I have to pay attention not to make it worse, all that automatic reaching for things. I wrote this thinking about the word disarmed.
I am listening to Chess Blues vol. 4 1960-1967.
After the sunset, taken from North Beach.
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sunset.
Taken yesterday, for Cee’s Flower of the Day.
From my yard.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day.
I went to Portland to meet my daughter, when she was up visiting friends. I stayed with one friend for two nights and then picked up my daughter and took her to another friends’ house. They currently have an empty garage apartment.
My daughter was supposed to fly out Thursday, but the 10.8 inch snow dump happened on Wednesday night. My friends are on this road that is mostly gravel and steeper than it looks in this picture.

The tracks that you see are driveway. The line in the trees is the road.
My friend has a pickup and chains and left for work at 6:30. My daughter and I put my chains on my Scion, and tried the hill. We blew the left chain off twice and the right one was mostly off as well.
That was probably a good thing because her plane was cancelled and there were accidents all over town.
We spent 2 hours and 30 minutes on hold with the airline and got her rescheduled for Saturday at 11:30.
She left the next morning with my friend in his truck. He dropped her at the metro and she stayed with friends who live close to the airport and are on the metro line.
My friends and I tried my chains again on Saturday morning. B blew one chain off too and we figured that a link had to be locked in a certain way. He drove up the driveway and we followed in the truck. He drove along the road until we were down to where chains were not needed. I thanked them all and headed out. Down the road a little there were three more abandoned vehicles: a truck with chains on and two cars. There were still patches of ridged ice on the 405 bridge. It took from 10 am to 12:22 to get back to Washington State! So hooray for chains and friends!
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: chains.
The sparkling water distracts, while she is shy above it, cloaked. She waits for the moisture that remains after Mount Olympus has taken her share from the clouds as they roll over. Over the year Mount Olympus and her sisters take hundreds of inches before the clouds pass on to Tahoma, but she catches the moisture left and builds a soft cloak. She is nearly hidden in the blues and pale blues. Look for her.
______________________________
It doesn’t fit, but I wrote it for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: risque.
BLIND WILDERNESS
in front of the garden gate - JezzieG
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