La Quinta!

Yo Ho Ho, and a Bottle of Christmas Brandy!

First, our little joys!

Ole and Asta are busy bringing Christmas Fun to our house! The only thing, stick with the butter mints and don't eat the Tootsie Rolls.

Xmas is in full swing in downtown Portland.

I suppose I should be grateful that it doesn't happen year-round, but I have to ask.

Is there some massive home for the mentally disadvantaged where people are only let out between Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve? Does this home have a huge parking lot where they let these people take their pick of cars and drive off? Are they sent downtown on purpose??

I don't know if I really want to know the answer, but where do all these people go the other eleven months of the year?

Perhaps the downtown merchants feel differently, but those Jacob Marleys of us who are doomed to wander the streets of the city all year long get really angry with this annual influx of idiot drivers and shoppers. Perhaps if we could load them all on short buses and drive them directly to Macy's (come on, not to be snobbish, but they don't shop at Nordstroms), that would be okay. Particularly, if they timed it between say, 9 and 11 in the morning, and 1:30 and 4 in the afternoon, when normal people are in their offices and before Happy Hour. I mean, how much time do this idiots need to shop?

But I'm forgetting myself. I've been to Fred Meyer. I know how much time these people need. It's indefinite. You walk behind these family blobs (you don't know who you are) who stop in the middle of aisles in a daze, making zombies look animated. You can't get around them, you back up your cart, go to the next aisle and find the next family blob. I'm surprised they're ever able to close the store. I picture these blobs just oozing perpetually down the aisles.

I am a highly interactive driver. As I go down the street in my car, I have a wide variety of opinions and I'm happy to share them with anyone. Christmas, in particular, brings a rich and textured litany of views on the world. Karen has pointed out that I can be less than charitable and seem to be lacking in the Christmas spirit, but come on. Jesus is the guy who trashed the temple, he wasn't all that calm. Put Jesus in an SUV on Fourth Avenue behind a group of these idiot drivers during the Holidays and I can hear him now, "Gary F%#ing Barnum! Can't that F&^%ing A*&hole figure out where the gas pedal is?!!!"

So, we are quickly slipping down that slope to the New Year. The last clear fix I have on anything was Karen and I were in Norway. That was in early January. The rest of the year has been on the Freeway of Life, with Karen occasionally saying, "I think we should * * * " and me replying, "That was Exit 495, we passed that two weeks ago." We had a great family Thanksgiving and almost felt organized, but "all of a sudden" it's December 20 and Karen was saying, "Remember that tree we bought a couple of weeks ago? Do you think we should do something with it?"

I love straight lines like that.

Hope everyone else is surviving the holidays!!!!

Love from Gary and Karen

Way to go Jona & Claire!!!

YACHT - (Jona & Claire)

Number 6 on MTV's Best Albums of 2009!

Higher than Jay-Z, Wilco, Mos Def, and Shakira. WOW!!!!!!!

#6. YACHT, See Mystery LightsVaguely cultish electronic music that's full of new-age sentiments ("It may come as a surprise/ But you are not alone") and cryptic notions about eternal life and mysterious triumvirates, but do...n't let that scare you. See Mystery Lights also contains some of the year's most gleefully fun pop tunes, all bloops and bleeps and chopped-and-screwed vocal tics. Sounding very much like it was recorded in someone's basement using only an old Casio and a MacBook, this is DIY dance music, though that doesn't stop songs like "I'm in Love With a Ripper" or "Psychic City (Voodoo City)" from positively glowing, much like the titular lights that haunt the outskirts of Marfa, Texas, most nights.

http://tinyurl.com/yageuya

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-OdEEkc1rco

Remodel Project - 2009

Asta & Ole - 14 weeks

Good-Bye Dear Pooka...

Meet Asta & Ole

Asta is a Norwegian girl name meaning “love”… and
Ole is a Norwegian boy name meaning “family”.

We can't imagine a couple of cuter, calmer, warmer, friendlier puppies in the world.

We hit the lottery with these two!

Wedding in Pennsylvania

Musse d' Orsay - Paris

The museum is in an old train station. It is so beautiful!

Notre Dame across the Seine from inside the museum.

Momma!

This is the museum restaurant. We had a lovely lunch.

The Barnums in France!!

Lafayette, here we be!

We are starting our fourth day in Paris and the city is really quite beautiful!

We have also found the French to be very friendly. I contrast this to the first time I traveled through France in the early 70"s. Of course, then I spoke no French, had long hair and a beard, and was carrying a backpack, but I found the people to be very rude.

Today, I'm a middle-aged man stumbling around town with my two French phrases: "Où est les toilettes?" and "Vous take Visa?" Everyone has been very nice to me.

Well, on Saturday, we went to the Palace of Versailles, which I have been told is pronounced "Versailles", not "Versailles." Except for the walking bits, you can pretty much get there by Metro. The train you want is Versailles Rive Gauche, which is called "VICK", I have no idea why.

After walking a fair distance we came around the corner and saw "Versailles". For Louis's country cottage, it really is quite huge, and distant. Just because we could see it, didn't mean we were particularly close.

By way of background, "Versailles" was originally built by Louis, the pretty big number. He wanted a place to escape from Paris, probably because like me in the 70's, he had long hair and a beard and found the Parisians not particularly friendly. Too bad he didn't have a Visa, things might have worked out better for his family.

First of all, "Versailles" actually is a town. In fact, the town of "Versailles" was there before the house of "Versailles". I'm sure the normal French that live there get a real kick out of telling people that "I live at Versailles, good servants are so difficult to keep, nowadays." Interesting fact that I discovered on the French translation website, "Versailles" is French for "Versailles".

Anyway, Louis, the pretty big number, built "Versailles" and started to meet with his people there back in the 17th century. His son, "Yet Another Louis", decided the place wasn't big enough and did a major remodel. Of course, he was five years old when he started, so the first fifteen years or so were pretty much dedicated to building more rooms to store his toys.

Yet Another Louis lived and remodeled at "Versailles" for more than 70 years. Both his son and grandson (named "I wanna be another Louis" and "Louis Louis, Oh Baby", stood by and died waiting for Yet Another Louis to pass on.

After Yet Another Louis came, his great-grandson, "Guess What My Name Is?" (My theory on their names is that they didn't want to replace the monogrammed towels.) Guess What My Name Is continued to add on to the house, a few more bedrooms, entertainment room, a carport and family room, but still no bathrooms.

Finally, came the "Louis, Who Didn't Quite Make It," the one who coined the phrase that my Dad always told me, "You'd Lose Your Head if it Wasn't Hooked On." Apparently, Dad was right. I don't think Louis, Who Didn't Quite Make It, added on much to the place and the ceilings could have definitely been shorter for him.

In the end, the place is pretty good size. I checked it on line and it has a few more than 700 rooms, didn't see any toilets though.

We came into the first half dozen or so rooms, each one huge, with painted ceilings about 40 or 50 feet above, gorgeous marble floors, beautiful paintings, statutes and windows overlooking the manicured gardens. Each room we would stop in wonder, gaze about, take pictures and sigh "ooh" and "ahh". After awhile though, you start picking up speed, take fewer pictures, start looking for the next "sortie" and moving on a bit quicker. As this journey continued, we were asking one another, "Did we take a wrong turn?" or "haven't we seen this room before?" In the end, you're pretty much running in a panic trying to get out of that place.

We did make it out finally, tired, breathing heavily, hungry and in need of a bathroom. These are not things which bode well when you are looking for a place to eat.

Shortly after leaving "Versailles", which is to say, quite a healthy walk to get anywhere off the grounds, we came upon a little restaurant named, "Brasserie de Musee".

When we were getting ready for this trip, I remember reading an article where the writer said, "You cannot get a bad meal in Paris." I might be wrong, but I think the proprietor of the "Brasserie de Musee" took that as a dare. In our defense, we were tired and hungry, so the outside of this little establishment looked pretty good. We sat down outside and started perusing the menu.

A repeating theme at restaurants is that you find yourself sitting for a long time, waiting for someone to come ask if you need anything or were just sitting there for a breather. I think France is where the name "waiter" was first used, because clearly these guys are not "show-ups" or "can I help yous", they just stand by and wait. At a couple of restaurants, after waiting for awhile, we have actually got up and moved on. I think there are some establishments in Paris that don't actually have food, just waiters, doing their job, waiting. At the "Brasserie de Musee", after an appropriate wait time, our waiter stopped waiting and showed up at our table. In this case, we would have been better served if he would have continued at his job and not shown up at our table. During our wait, Karen had noticed the "spécial du jour" on the blackboard outside, some sort of steak with a "Béarnaise" sauce. Actually, the word is pronounced, "Béarnaise" not "Béarnaise". Another interesting fact, is that Béarnaise is French for Béarnaise, I checked it out. Karen ordered the steak "Béarnaise" and I opened the menu (pronounced "menu'") and started to give my order. The waiter took my "menu'" and said, "no pizza, just this" and pointed to the blackboard. I know there were things on the "menu'" other than pizza, but I was tired and hungry and in no mood to argue, so I let it go. The blackboard had the steak "Béarnaise" and a lard salad (I'm serious). I said I would take the same as Karen.

We waited some more, and he brought us bottled water, which smelled a little off. How can water smell off? We should have taken that as our cue to leave. He also brought us a bottle of wine he recommended. A few years ago, the French had a huge glut of wine, most of it bad. They now have all these extra bottles of bad wine which they recommend to foreigners as a way of cleaning out their cellars. It tasted vaguely of a light dry vinegar, piquant, with overtones of mold and a hint of those little urinal cakes. It did have alcohol, so that was a plus. We were tired and hungry and in no mood to argue, so we let it go.

The meal came, Karen got her steak "Béarnaise" with little sliced fried "pommes de terre", pronounced "pommes de terre" or what we call potatoes. Those turned out to be the highlight of the meal. For me, I got the "lard salad". I was tired and hungry and in no mood to argue, so I let it go. In the middle of the salad, which was generally green and greasy, though you weren't quite sure where the green from the salad started and the green from the bacon lard began, stood a poached egg, or "oeuf" as the say in French (pronounced "oof" as in the sound you make when you look at that beigy-greenish thing staring back at you).

The meal let off that vague odor that your refrigerator makes when things have been there too long and you're not quite sure if it's the week-old chicken casserole or the past-its prime Chinese take-out that is causing the smell. Of course, we were both tired and hungry and in no mood to argue, so we let it go. Karen's steak in the meantime, this restaurant billed as their medium-rare, was the consistency of boot leather, but without the good flavor. Karen and I are always good at sharing our food with one another. This meal in particular, showed that. We were both saying, "here, try mine, no, take more, please." Followed by, "no save that for yourself, but here, take mine". We finished the potatoes and the wine.

By the end of the meal, which came quite quickly, we were laughing and had a new repertoire of "Brasserie de Musee" jokes, as in, "If you ask for the dessert menu, I'll have to kill you." "First prize is a free meal at Brasserie de Musee, second prize is two free meals." and "How do you say 'fuck you' at the "Brasserie de Musee? 'Bon appétit'."

All things do come to an end, and fortunately, that was true of this meal.

Anyway, if you find yourself tired and hungry in Versailles, I'd recommend that you starve and keep walking. Or, as the French say, prepare to be "bon appétited"!

Remember the Taco Bell commercial? "Taste as good as it looks!" It didn't.



The Blackboard!

Walk to the Eiffel Tower & Jules Verne Restaurant

Self Portrait from the Hall of Mirrors - Versailles

Gary & Karen waving "hello"!

Bonjour from Paris!

The Apartment

Wild Things in the Window

Rue de Martyrs

Rue de St. Lazarre

St. George

It Didn't Start That Way

It didn't start that way.

Penny was Karen's. Karen had seen her born, had put a Sharpie mark on her belly to identify her. Anyone that knows Karen, knows the story, she has told it a million times.

:)

I did not have a lot of happy dog memories in my past. I had a beagle I loved and lost when I was very young and, after that? There were a series of family dogs to whom I was not attached, they weren't mine. When I left home, I never had a dog, thinking of the mess, the care, leaving them alone when you go to work, what do you do when you travel. A thousand good reasons not to have a dog.

When we were first together, Karen didn't bring her dogs because she knew I didn't want to have dogs around. Occasionally, as we had house guests, Penny and Peso would stay for extended periods. Together, they were friendly, but very noisy and messy. I'd grumble and clean up after them, happy to pet and talk to them, but happy when they left.

Then Penny got sick with cancer. I could see Karen's concern and loss, so we took Penny in, because I loved Karen. I promised Karen we would make her well, but with all Karen's worry and concern I knew we had to keep Penny after that. She wanted to be with Penny and take care of her. It was not easy for Justin, who kept Peso, but that's what we did.

It didn't start that way. I can't tell you when it happened.

The days, months and years passed. From, no pets on the bed, we ended up with Penny every night, always on my side, always sleeping against my hairy chest, Karen saying, "With all your hair, you’re her People." Every evening, greeted at the door, tail wagging. Penny's ears would perk up when I said "newspaper" and she would run to the door. I'd walk and she would run up our outside stairs, she would tag all of the appropriate bushes and I would retrieve the paper. Then we would amble down the stairs, get a drink or a cup of coffee and spend time with the paper, reading the news, doing the puzzles, Penny laying on my lap.

The past year, she had slowed down. Instead of running up or down the stairs, we would have to carry her to flat ground. But she would wait expectantly, hop up into our hands when we bent down and we would go on our way. We didn't really notice what we were doing, it wasn't a chore, it was just the way you spent time with Penny.

Weekends were the best, we didn't go anywhere. Instead of late afternoon in the chair, "Daddy" was in his chair in the morning, coffee and paper in hand, Penny on his lap.

She was gone last weekend, at the pet hospital, trying to make her well. To us, a weekend lost.

She spent a tough week in the hospital, we visited every day, held her, hoped and prayed for her. Her eyes would light up and her ears perk straight up when she saw us, she would try and get into my arms and, once there, would rest her head and sleep.

On Thursday, we thought all was well. We had a nice visit with Penny, an hour in my arms, Karen and I telling her we loved her, the doctor saying we might be able to take her home on Saturday. We were still battle-weary from the week, but happy and hopeful, we had dinner nearby at an Elmer's.

On Friday morning, Karen and I drove in together, talking about how we were going to take care of Penny in the coming weeks and whether we could take the trip we planned. At 9 a.m., I received a call from the doctor. I answered happily expecting a positive report. It wasn't.

Things had gone very wrong, Penny was on oxygen and we needed to get their right away.

I rushed out of my office and picked up Karen, she took over driving as I was not doing well. We called Penny's normal veterinarian, Dr. Creech, and asked for advice, asking if she could talk to the doctor treating Penny and give us hope. Dr. Creech has been great for Penny, saved her years ago from cancer and has helped her numerous times. She was sad, but honest with us. I don't remember crying that hard since I have been an adult.

We arrived at the hospital and they asked if we were there for "pick up", I think the tears in our eyes told them we weren't. We had to sit in the waiting room, others sitting around or coming and going with their pets, hurt or sick but still with them. We were going crazy and Karen asked them again if they could get us to Penny. They did.

The little Puppy was laying on a table, with a oxygen mask, our hearts were breaking. She saw us and she leapt into my arms. I had to replace the mask because she couldn't breath without it. They took us to a small room, we sat on a couch with Penny on oxygen, and we sobbed.

Karen opened my shirt and, still holding Penny to my chest, we let her go.

It's Saturday morning, the house is quiet.

My chair is empty.

It didn't start that way, but it's been that way for years and that's how it ended.

I loved Penny and miss her deeply

Gary

PENNY BARNUM 8-21-2009

An empty bed

A forgotten food bowl

A hanging leash

A stuffed bear

An unworn vest

A three-pound Yorkie is the two-ton elephant not in the room

Who would have known?

"She was our North, our South, our East and West,
Our working week and our Sunday rest,
Our noon, our midnight, our talk, our song;
We thought she would live forever: we were wrong."

We Love You, Penny

Mommy & Daddy

YACHT - New Psychic City Video

Happy 4th of July!

Cannon Beach/ EVO Cooking School Weekend

Congratulations Schuyler Barnum Class of 2009!

Lake Oswego High School Graduation

Jeremy Schuyler Barnum
Graduation Awards:
National Merit Scholar
Theatre Merit Award - Male

A lovely lunch today with Phil Wogsberg...

Go Norway!

(It wasn't quite lutefisk... but we talked about it!)

Andrew & Jessica's Wedding

The Belle Chapel - Snohomish, Washington

Karen, Who-Who, Brittney and Brooke

Mr. & Mrs. Andrew Miller

Jessica and Olivia

Woodinville

A snowy day in March at the Willows Lodge!

Novelty Hill - Januik Winery

Capital Building - Olympia

The Inn at Mallard Cove