Monday: The new routine

With all the changes at The Oregonian brought on by buyouts, layoffs and reorganization of the newsroom, virtually everyone who's still there seems to be taking on new responsibilities and/or moving to a new desk. In my case, I'm still doing my thing as Sunday Opinion editor but now I'm also the Saturday morning assignment editor, responsible for coordinating any local coverage planned for that day, plus breaking news. I pulled my first shift two days ago and all went well, no doubt because it was a quiet news day.

But this means I'm now working a Tuesday through Saturday shift, and adjusting to the rhythm of Sunday and Monday as my days off. I think it will be good having a day off that coincides when businesses are open. I'll still have plenty of time to exercise, run errands, walk the dog and prepare dinner (starting tonight, with a recipe I'm following for scallop gumbo).

I took Otto on a walk through our new neighborhood late this morning and it was a real treat, not just because it was warm and dry out but more because of the visual treasures and oddities I encountered along the way. One thing I like a lot about our new residence is that I'm walking even more than before and noticing new things on just about every block I find myself on.

To give you an idea of what I saw:

-- A loaf of sliced French bread from Grand Central Bakery, nestled against the curb at the intersection of 11th and Tillamook Street. My guess? I'm thinking it fell out of a stroller or maybe someone's pouch as they were riding or walking by.
-- A check for $2.21 from Sallie Mae to a person who presumably became separated from it on 11th. Some honorable soul placed it just off the sidewalk and placed two small rocks on it to hold it down.
-- A flag of Ireland gently waving from the gable of a home, reminding me that St. Patrick's Day is two days from now.
-- A photo of Mr. T (or someone who looks like him) Scotch-taped to the front door window of a street-level apartment.
-- A reddish bowling ball snuggled in the midst of someone's flower garden.
-- A piece of street art in the form of a five-foot-long mosaic lizard (above).
-- A robin sipping from a bird bath in someone's front yard. (I know, it doesn't sound like much but I always try to be as quiet and still as possible so a bird will go about its business. In this case, he/she paused to eye me carefully before resuming its sipping when I began to walk away.)
-- A young mom jogging alongside her daughter, who was riding a bicycle with training wheels. Now that's the kind of scene I'd never see downtown...

There's no big thought or great insight in this post. I suppose it's nothing more than the experience of seeing my new neighborhood under different circumstances that makes me feel it's worth writing about. You can drive the same streets over and over and not notice something that stands out when you set out on foot and open your eyes and other senses to what's around you.

There's great variety and vibrancy in everyday life. Every once in a while, I like to purposefully take it in.

Photo: from my iPhone