a little red hen

We Broke the Code at PSU!

Yes, we found our way to the pot at the end of the rainbow:  free classes at Portland State University.

In the rain!  It took two cellphone calls with Susan, the very patient administrator for the Senior Adult Learning Center.  "Explain again where you are because nothing looks like the 'hi-rise' you mentioned; I'm from New York."  While Ron parked the car a few blocks away, it was my job to find it first--the building with a number on the website but unmarked in real life.

"Maybe it's under 'Aging,' or ,  'Senior' on the directory," I told Ron on another cell call as we worked to reach the same place.  "You have to walk up three flights, then find your way to another stairway to get to the fourth floor."  Suddenly an elevator door opens behind me and there he is--arriving from an entrance on the opposite side of the building.

In our search for lifelong learning opportunities in PDX,* everyone mentioned this good deal at PSU--undergraduate classes at no charge.  Old-fashioned, educated American that we are, first effort we looked for  a catalog of courses.  No.  It's all on their website.  Even in this SALC office there was no hard copy; we have to go to the library for that--and now that we've been sanctioned as participants, we hope to gain entrance to it.

Since much of the semester has gone by, we decided to do a flip through the available classes roster that Susan offered, take our chances on selecting a class by title only.  Ron found Medieval History, mine is Women and Politics.  A half-sheet of yellow paper certifies us.  On the back are instructions for auditing-- wave the paper toward the instructor be "...considerate of students taking the class for credit by not dominating class discussions." Useful advice for old people, always garrulous as we are.

I just realized there are only a few sheets of yellow in our colorful collection brought from NYC.  Enough to make copies in case we lose one--or it falls apart from folding and waving, or gets wet.  Now have back-up in a plastic sleeve.  Going to school offers many challenges in the 21st century.

Over my three years of blogging, I've been curious that other Elderbloggers have not written about their experiences with what is known as "lifelong learning."  It's something that has interested me since before I retired when I designed a program titled, "Creativity in the Third Age."  Described the idea on my Cityworm website.   So, Lifelong Learning lengthens the list of categories here as Ron and I explore what's offered to seniors in Portland.   And what about your experiences?

On Saturdays from March to December the center of the PSU campus hosts the Portland Farmers' Market, both are walking distance from Terwilliger Plaza, our new home.  Surprising unknown, locally grown vegetables appear to challenge the adventurous.

This week we noticed  Ficoide Glacial, slightly tangy French green.  Always free samples to try and consider for next time.

*Department of Clarification:  In this post I'm referring to  programs designed specifically to meet circumstances and schedules of those over 55.  Sometimes they're free like PSU, or have fees like the IRP at the New School in New York City and ones supported by the Osher Foundation. 

"Small Is Beautiful" in my everyday life

Last night we picked up our daughter and went to a downtown movie.  Last show, we were the only ones at Lloyd Center Mall to see "The Informant."  Curious film--glad for lack of violence or gratuitous sex--maybe I missed the point?  Afterwards,  realized I'd dropped my Ron-knit-hat and new gloves.

[Aside:  Minor challenge is adjusting to current Portland weather.  Thought cold times had arrived--wrong.]

Called the Mall this morning, got number for movie office.  "Wait a minute," the woman said, "let me look."  She returned, described my lost articles.  Later today I'll pick them up at the box office.  Meanwhile we had a brief and pleasant exchange about the oddness of being alone at the movies.

Oh, I am liking so much the scale of life here.  Take Sunday morning just passed.   Along with 17 others,

[Aside: Every now and then some of that much-advertised rain appears]

I scribbled away for two hours at a Community Writing Workshop at HOT LIPS Pizza on Hawthorne.  Write Around Portland puts these on to give new and not-so writers the "experience of the transformative power of writing in community."  Very intergenerational--17 on up, one other grandmother, other recent transplants.

[Aside:  Hot Lips' pizza has been a favorite since our family settled nearby...delicious Pear Soda, a new addition...and the jams.  Website text on how they came to add these by accident rather than corporate plan is my notion of  modern Portland-style, as contrasted with old-fashioned.  Again, more later.]

Why the workshop, I hope you ask.  Need a jump start on writing in general plus a push to working more on  my plays about life among the not-so-old  as we get more so. Preferring "old" lately as adjective and noun.

[Aside:  The WAP session was a push.  More came from unpacking another book box (endless), finding books of ten-minute plays.  More later.]

In synch with E.F. Schumacher and the beauty of "small,"  decided to get rid of many more books.  Reading Fran Johns' postings on the True/Slant blog, listening to children of the old talking about the burden of parents' wish for them to receive their "stuff," resonated.  Okay, they really, really live in the here-and-now--a thing or two from Mom and Dad's pile and that's it.

  [Aside:  Our son-in-law cherishes his grandfather's college football helmet, our daughter dresses her children in sweaters I knit for her--and saved.  My daughter-in-law in New York took on this blue baby dress of mine.]

Keeping the flame of  Schumacher alive is a society with a number of programs,  and a blog.  Good ideas do not go out of style.

 

Oh, you did not see it coming? Signs everywhere last couple of weeks in PDX...

President Obama declares H1N1 national emergency

Here's a petition to sign to remind Obama that even with this crisis, we will continue to push him and Congress on a public option  Petition for the Public Option from Progressive Change Campaign Committee.

What's a grandmother to do?

This was fun.  Our seven-year-old grandson came to dinner at our place following an afternoon movie.  He is very interested in cooking thanks to input from his father and other grandma.  This was such a delightful time for us that I reluctantly speak of the movie.

"Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs," is a quirky title of a very popular children's book.  I'd heard of it and wondered.  Before we left NYC, there was a very upbeat review in the New York Times.  Surely this would be more appropriate for Zach than the one we tried a couple of years ago, "Ratatouille."  In this "Common Sense" rating system, it was pronounced swell even though 100% of parents said, "too violent."  Yes, it  scared our grandchild, puzzled us; we fled early.

He was anxious to go to "Meatballs."  A movie is a rare experience in his TV-less household where he only sees children's videos.  Sunday afternoon at Lloyd Center in downtown PDX--a mob scene.  We watched, thought it would never end.  Zach loved it.What's my problem here?  In "Willamette Week," Aaron Mesh had a single complaint in his review:

Ron Barrett’s original pen-and-ink illustrations were intricate and moody, filled with awe and mystery as well as peanut-butter-and-jelly blizzards. The edibles that fall from the sky in Sony’s CGI cartoon look like Fisher Price play food...

For me there was a disgusting aspect to the stuff. The excessive size and intensity of the food presented the too-muchness as something to be desired.  And it went on too long.  And what was the idea behind the stereotyped African-American policeman?  He was presented as a heavy with a heart of gold, redeemed by loving his little son.  Strange. 

And the father of the hero, the only person of age in the film, was a heavy-footed who really did not get his son's ideas.  Especially as they all related to his (how old was he supposed to be?) computer science wizardry.  Father did not even know how to turn the damned computer on--a crucial task in the adventure.  Piling up the cliches was the air-headed girl reporter who turns out to be smart toward the end.  Can't remember whether this was when she put on eyeglasses or took them off. 

Well, I survived those classic Disney mother-loss dramas "Snow White" and "Bambi," so Zach will no doubt weather (oops, unintended pun) "Meatballs" with his own family's values intact.

October already...having too much fun

Thinking it's important to make an appearance, I offer a harvest moon, a little bear knit for our youngest  granddaughter (completed a couple of weeks ago from Italian merino, Oat Couture pattern).

We have been busy since landing in the City of Roses--still unpacking/arranging/discarding stuff--visiting often with family, looking into lifelong learning offerings and getting integrated into life in an urban retirement community.

More time than I expected in decisions about where I'm going with my bead accumulation.   Last week many of them went to a silent auction for a new after-school, middle school program.  Being "with them" again after many years at a distance, their colors, shapes, memories of collecting drew me close.

Great weather too, the kind that makes me want to stay outdoors before the promised Fall rainy season.