Highway Living.

As you may or may not know the museum where I work closed it's doors to the public back in April. After lots of packing and about 12 trips with the movers we are warehoused until we find a new location / identity. I am happy to still have a job. I am happy that i can keep adding things to my resume. I am not happy I have to drive to work. I could take a bus but it would be 2 hours of my day taken up by commuting. Which sounds terrible. So I drive. about 25 minutes each way. I work on highway 99. The warehouse is an old Pendleton woolen mill. So at the very least there is some interesting architecture. The wooden floors sweat oil from years of machines and looms being oiled down. We all have to share the oldest toilet in the world. There are 6 but only one functions. There is a special rule. If the bathroom door is closed... I am in there. If I leave it open I am "taking my chances." There is a Pendleton store attached with some of the most beautiful blankets I have seen. We are next to train tracks and a vacant lot and across the highway from a strip joint called the Acropolis. It is painted blue and white like the Greek flag... it's classy. There are ferral cats that eat off our loading dock. and Lots of birds (who also eat the cat food). The loading dock looks like a Pollock painted with poop. I try not to think about it when I go to and from my car. The Pendleton warehouse worker has Sugar Magnolia as his ring tone.
I have to put up an exhibit at the Oregon Historical Museum by August 15. It is a nightmare. I have so little time and so much to do. It feels pretty good to actually be doing work again.
For times like this one needs a sanctuary. Besides catching last night daily show and colbert report during lunch. I wander over to the wild black berry bushes. Hmm brings back childhood memories of 965. The berries are hot from being in the sun all day. hmm so good. I am positive by the time I get back to work on Tuesday there will be enough for pie making.