Dear God,

Please forgive me, I am new at this. Please, in your own wonderful way, let our two very favorite day-of the wedding coordinators see past our attempt to hire them for what one might construe as embarassingly less than the going rate, less than their customary asking price, frankly, less than what I am certain they are worth. Let them know that deep down inside, we are cheap. Moreover, let them understand that 2 weeks ago we were taking her home from the hospital. Last week, she broke her leg jumping off a trash can, learned how to ride a crazy horse and graduated from high school. 3 days ago she went away by herself to college and yesterday, she fell in love. Please let them know that we meant no harm or disrespect, we’re just a couple of crazy kids ourselves, trying to give their baby girl a good send off. Thank you, God, Amen.

Peggy's Cove, Halifax, Nova Scotia - September 17, 2009

Peggy's Cove, Halifax, Nova Scotia - September 17, 2009

The Slot Tournament - Sea Day - September 21, 2009

The Slot Tournament - Sea Day - September 18, 2009

The view from Cadillac Mountain of our cruise ship off the coast of Bar Harbor, Maine – Tuesday, September 15, 2009

15 September 2009

15 September 2009

Our tales, photos and observations from a grand vacation to the east coast are like an overflowing cup of tea where you are frantcially trying to contain it all, not to waste a single drop of goodness. So much fun, so much history and many, many memories. I don’t think we visited a single place we didn’t thoroughly enjoy; few places we wouldn’t be excited to visit again. Beyond expectation, especially NYC. Our trip was, in a word, GRAND.

We’re both back at work now and have many things to catch up on at work and at home before we depart on another adventure in 15 days! Between now and then I will try to post a few tales and images from our New England and Nova Scotia trip while they are still fresh in our minds.

My hubby is the best travel buddy in the whole wide world. I am ever grateful for his adventurous spirit and steady reassurance as I step out way beyond my comfort zone & into a world of fun and fascinating places and activities. For without his love, support, encouragement and companionship, my world would be little more than a well worn path between 134 South F Street and 800 South Victoria Ave.

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Michael James Tyler Bill
9.02.09
2:10 a.m.

There is really nothing more to say.

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the beginning of the next generation

the beginning of the next generation

Another view from the future site of our retirement home (Lord willing).

I was just checking the obits in the local paper as I have become prone to do of late. Whew, no one I knew was listed. First time in a few weeks. Very grateful for that. I did take note of two people who passed this past week who were born the same year I was. 1960. A pretty good year; makes it really easy to figure out how old you are since the math is a snap. Anyhoo, I ran across the following listing that I wanted to share with all my loyal fans. (See how I pretend people are actually reading this blog?) Enjoy.

THOMAS RUBICK
P.S. Im Dead by Thomas Rubick This to let you know I died of brain cancer on July 19. Really. I was diagnosed in June, 2008 and have been having an interesting relationship (not one of those heroic battles) with it since.

But finally the cancer won and I died. And because cancers are incredibly stupid, so did it. (Note to scientists: work on a smarter cancer with a broader understanding of the implications of its actions.) Since I wrote this before I died I dont know the details but Im sure my death was inspiring, noble, and loving. Or not. I really dont know. Nor does it matter once youre dead, I suspect.

Im sorry to have left those who loved me so well my whole life: my wife Jeanne Maasch of Eugene; my sister Paulette Johnson of Ventura, California; my mother Patricia Craighead of Oxnard, California, and my truly wonderful children (Jade Rubick, Cody Rubick and Emilie Lamson) and delightful grandchildren (Tony, Sasha, Vivi, and Tina)-all of whom live in Portland.

I love them beyond words and wish them the best. I also have a half-brother, Monte Rubick, in Lake Forest, California. I was also blessed with beautiful and loving friends. More, I realized through this process, than I truly realized.

In fact, there was much that I learned and I feel blessed. I have had a wonderful life. I wish you the same.

The family requests that people donate art supplies to their local elementary school in Thomas Rubick’s name and to contact us for a packet of information for the class.

P.S. In case its mandatory to include the facts: I was born to Patricia and Tony Rubick on March 16, 1948 in Long Beach, California. I received a BA from California State University in Long Beach and a MA from Kent State University. My first wife and the mother of my sons is Donna Sires in Portland. I married Jeanne Maasch in 1989. I lived in Eugene since 1977 and was co-founder of Rubick & Funk Graphic Design. I taught as an adjunct at the University of Oregon for five years and in the Art Department at Lane Community College for 21. Thats about it.

Is YOURS worth catching?

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to all of you who sent cards, text messages and e-mails to Cooper and his worried masters. He is doing well. Still a bit off-kilter but slept most of the afternoon, evening and all-through the night. He’s up and at ‘em now. The real chore will come in trying to keep him away from the other dogs and out of the pool for 2 weeks. How do you keep the prince of rough-housing from doing what he does best? So today Dwayne shared that he wanted me to ask the vet about implants so Coop wouldn’t loose his ‘manly’ form after the surgery. I’m afraid I’m going to come home from work one of these days and see one those sack of balls, like the ones you sometimes see hanging from underneath monster trucks, dragging around underneath the back end of my dog. Oh my word!

My front porch is a great place to sit and watch the world go by.

I have always, since the first day we moved into this house, wanted a writing desk, kind of like the one Mimi has in the family room, to set in front of the living room windows, looking toward the street. So I could write letters, pay the bills, be on the computer. Years ago it was so I could look out and watch the kids play in the yard; keep them safe. I still don’t have my desk; perhaps I never will. So until then…..

My honey recently picked up a pair of chairs (and an unexpected coffee-type table, too) at the end of season sale at Lowe’s. They were originally intended to go under the pergola at the side of the house but stopped here on their way down the path and seemed to have settled in quite comfortably here. In the mornings, we sit here and eat breakfast before it is time to go to work. Some evenings, I’ll sit here and open the mail or peruse one of the many catalogs I didn’t order and wonder how it found its way to me. Patches, the aging Dalmatian, sits at my feet, snapping her jaws at a passing fly. Holly is usually bent down at the steps staring intently at a ball, hoping someone will notice, pick it up, and give it a throw. eventually, if no one notices, she’ll move the ball closer. Today it is a yellow and turquoise soccer ball and much to large for me to pick up with one hand. Yet there she stands, wagging her tail in hopes I’ll stop typing and play with her. It’s kind of sad, really. There are two cats here, too. Allie, the purported favorite, is sleeping in a woven chair to the left of me and Sammy, well, Sammy seems to have found somewhere else to enjoy the lovely day. Cooper is at the vet having terrible, unspeakable things done to his manliness. I feel like a heel. I hope he still loves me when I pick him up today.

I used to sit out here and read a book or the newspaper, or something else. Nowadays, I’ll be on the computer, planning trips, researching things, catching up on family e-mails and blogs, kicking the soccer ball for the dog. No matter what I intended to do out here on the porch, it always seems to end up the same way. Just watching the world go by.

Maybe the real reason I don’t have that desk I’ve “always” wanted is because I found something better on the other side of the windows. I found my front porch. It may not look like the one in the Thomas Kincade painting that I love entitled “Hometown Pride”, but to me, it doesn’t get much better than this.