Under Construction, part X: Meridian Playground Tilth After

Dear Diary,

Silly me.  I thought I knew Meridian Playground pretty well by now, but I thought wrong.  You see, I'd never seriously investigated the park's southern tier.

Turns out there are two institutions in there:  the Good Shepherd P-Patch, and what the older real property reports called (in all caps) "Meridian Playground:  Tilth".

Tilth Alliance calls the parts it occupies "Good Shepherd Center" and "Children's Learning Garden".  The former, as they portray it, includes "a 12-acre park and a farmer's market", which is, methinks, putting the cart miles before the horse.  But it also, more honestly, claims a "solar greenhouse", our topic now.

Let's get a closer look at the bottom sign: 

So this is construction in a Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation park during 2026.  Which is the criterion for this page.  I never said the department had to pay for it.

Firefox makes it a hassle for me to show you lots of photos, dear Diary, so I'm just going to end with four photos of something you're unlikely to get another chance to see, a newly renovated solar greenhouse.  The planted roof visible in the last photo is considerably older than the renovation, dating back to 1974 according to a nearby sign.

Thursday, I hope to write part XV of "Abandoned Pages".  And sometime around then, the state of the baseline halfway.  Happy days and nights until then, dear Diary.

Huh.  Firefox apparently swallows four photos easier than one.  I have one more, a photo in which the motifs near the door in the third photo above reappear inlaid in the ground as a five-pointed star, or maybe a starfish, for children's play.  This is a little east of the greenhouse.  The photo isn't at all good, but the effect is neat up close, so anyone who visits for the greenhouse should also check this out.

Again, happy days and nights.

 

Abandoned Pages, part XIV: Unopened streets

Dear Diary,

This is the last project-specific part of this page.

Why?

You and I, dear Diary, have never treated private property as That Which Must Not Be Seen, have never fully respected the definition of private property Ken Ilgunas attacked in a book I recently discussed here.  So just finding out that undeveloped, or more often "unopened", streets were private property, as reported in that linked page, didn't convince me they need to be ignored.  (I've repeatedly considered a page about "Vacant Lots of North Seattle", for example.  That would be mostly private.)

More precisely, what I consider an unopened street is private property on which the city holds an easement, a public right of way.  And the thing is, time and again, the fact on the ground, whether initiated by the actual owners or merely tolerated by them (I usually don't know which), is that the unopened street is marked off.  It isn't in fact treated just like the rest of their properties, and is fairly often, explicitly or implicitly, a public way.  When it isn't, again often enough, it's because it's, explicitly or implicitly, a public park.  Which is obviously part of our remit, dear Diary.

So I have no interest in reporting on ways the owners of unopened streets use them privately, but I'm curious about ways they're used more or less publicly.

Anyway, I already did report on most of the six unopened streets of downtown Seattle, so why not report on the 197 in North Seattle?  More than half of them are north of 85th St, so it's certainly hiking.

What?

Nothing yet.

Why not?

Time.  200 more places to visit while building my baseline for North Seattle is a hard no.

What now?

If I understand correctly, the current rule is that I don't have to take a class in summer 2027 after all.  Now, that's the season I expect to build a baseline downtown and near there, and I'll be working, or homeless, by then.  So it isn't a given that I can do these that summer, but the summer after, 2028, there'll be no baselines to build, no classes, and no reason not to go.

Well, dear Diary, we may meet sometime in the next three hard days, but certainly in the later part of this week.  Until then, happy days and nights.

Abandoned Pages, part XIII: Everything hikes B

Dear Diary,

Only three parts left to go!  This is the second and last part about current projects; next, 1) a part about a future project, then 2) one ranking the projects as I see them then.

Then, one month later, 3) re-ranking them in the hope that by then, people other than me will have shared opinions, and anyway I'll have had more time to think.

Why?

Because the Seattle Department of Parks and Recreation, when I asked for a list of water fountains, gave me a bad one.  It says Sunset Place has one water fountain (15698), and Ravenna Park two (15687 and 15689); in each case it's high by one.  It says Soundview Playfield has one water fountain (15854); it's low by one.  It says Magnuson Park has five water fountains (15731, 15758, 15861, 15863 and 15873); it's high by two thanks to a construction project I haven't yet told you about, dear Diary.  Licton Springs Park's water fountain (15794) is missing like the building it was attached to.  It perpetuates what I expect to find is still a myth, of the water fountain of Baker Park on Crown Hill (15856), but the problems I now know about are much more extensive.

So just as in 2020, I'm trying to leave no stone unturned, looking for water fountains.

What?

Originally, I was going places, visiting all the sites included in my list, photographing most, and then writing about them.

I was also looking really hard for water fountains, trying to follow every trail.

Why not?

Because it was taking too long.

Writing takes time.

Visiting 500 places takes time.

Following every trail takes time. 

And one day it dawned on me that, very soon, Parks would start turning off the water fountains and closing restrooms before I could possibly complete my baseline, my list of places to re-visit in winter and again next summer.

So I stopped writing much, and I stopped visiting all 500 places, settling for just 180, the Parks properties that might have plumbing most of that list.  And only taking two kinds of photos:  water fountain and restroom bread and butter photos, and photos that seem like really good ideas.  And only following every trail to whatever extent that seems necessary.

Except that about the trails, I'd started all this even before I knew I'd be taking four classes this quarter.

What now?

The classes present a huge problem.  I'd hoped to hike both today and tomorrow, but I can no longer pretend that's possible.

However, having just updated the master list, it seems I'm now satisfied that I've adequately visited half the parks, 75 out of 150, and just over half of the other places, 16 out of 30.

So it's probably still possible that I can meet the deadline without breaking out the tools of project management.

Good night, dear Diary.  Tomorrow I have a lot of writing to do, and hope that'll include a most unexpected part of "Under Construction".  Happy hours until then.

 

Abandoned Pages, part XII: Construction

Dear Diary,

We're now up to the current pages.

Why?

As I've mentioned already to you, dear Diary, I spent a lot of time in the first half of this year studying a discipline called project management.  So when an article appeared in The Seattle Times about projects in the parks, while my previously breakneck accounting class was in a lull, it felt like a sign from above.

What?

I talk about the projects, trying to learn about them and then offer what I've learnt.  I look for, and sometimes find, documents, especially plans, which are basically maps.  That's pretty much it.  Much less bureaucratic than library hours or everything hike work.

Why not?

It dawned on me that I was being much too slapdash about the current everything hike.  So I've started planning hikes to cover all the parks in some area.  The maps I'm using divide North Seattle into four pages, at 85th St and at 6th Ave NE.  Yes, NE is really bigger than N and NW put together.  Anyway, I'm currently working on the southwestern map, everything from Ballard to Green Lake, and that's more or less a dead zone on both the original article's map and my edited version of it, except for parks already covered - A. B. Ernst, Woodland and Meridian Playground.

What now?

The northwest is next, including several parks that certainly belong in the page, so in early October, "Under Construction" should revive just fine.

Whether I'll revive it again in the future, I'm not sure.  It's a good fit for me personally, but it sure involves a lot of playgrounds, which aren't such a good fit for you, dear Diary.  Also, I'd have to come up with new page titles every year, sort of like the library hours ones.  And probably make it a bit more bureaucratic, with a clearer basis for inclusion in a given year.

So.  Comments matter here.

Good day, dear Diary.  I'll probably be back tonight to write part XIII.  Until then.

Abandoned Pages, part XI: Transit

Dear Diary,

Yes, I had a good birthday.  Thank you for asking.  I wish any of your readers at all had asked, but one can't have everything.

Two years ago, I went way outside your usual topic, dear Diary, and wrote about bus stops.  Let's see...

Why?

I'd been seeing signs around the neighbourhood for months saying our bus line was to be cut.  But I'd been busy with school, and hadn't paid attention.

When I finally did pay attention, the signs were saying there was one last survey, one last chance to make our voices heard.  But the survey turned out to have only one question:  "What do you think is the best thing about the planned changes?"

When I started thinking about writing something, I contacted King County Metro's PR people, who were absolutely astonished to be asked for ridership numbers.  As if the level of usage of a bus line had nothing at all to do with its being eliminated.  Well, to be fair, the route 271 had about a hundred times more use than the route 20, and the 271 is now history.

But why, if the 20's lack of riders wasn't the reason, why was it being eliminated?

What?

As I said in the previous part, I went places and I photographed things - went to the bus stops being retired from service and photographed them.

I also did a passel of research, but too much of it relied on fallible me.  In part III of "A Requiem for Seventy-Seven Bus Stops", I listed, I think, six cuts of North Seattle bus stops, previous to those I was writing about.  But in preparing to write this page, I made a list, and I'd missed a cut only one year before.  Also, a relevant cut.

I was writing about, inter alia, the route 28X, but I hadn't noticed two other routes in the same general area that had been cut in September 2023.  In summer 2023, the routes 15X, 18X and 28X all operated west of Greenwood Ave N, south of the city limits, east of Puget Sound, and north of  NW 85th St / Holman Road N/NW.  In summer 2025, they were all gone; only two short loops, 17X and 28X, probably one or two stops each, remained, near the southern edge.

Subsequently?  The route 75 was re-routed in March of this year, eliminating service on NE 125th St from Roosevelt Way NE to 5th Ave NE, and on 5th Ave NE from NE 125th St to NE Northgate Way.

And this fall, the introduction of the route 77 added service on N/NE 130th St from Meridian Ave N to 5th Ave NE.

Why not?

I never intended to add another main topic for you, dear Diary, and to be useful, I think ongoing coverage of transit - well, specifically, of buses - would need a lot of attention, not just a twice-yearly look-see.

I'd actually have to read the Seattle Transit Blog regularly.  Learn how to read it regularly, for that matter.

What now?

I dunno.  A twice-yearly look-see is well within my powers; a twice-yearly photographing hike a bit less so, while I remain in school.

But serious study of transit?  Scary.

Human readers, if any:  The point of this page is not confessional.  It is to elicit comments on what you'd like to read.  It is utterly failing in that goal at present, so I reluctantly concede I'll have to allow more time.  But this topic is exactly the kind of thing where comments really could make a difference. 

Dear Diary, this quarter, I have classes in person, in Everett, Mondays and Wednesdays, and online Tuesdays and Wednesdays.  While I also have plenty of assignments due the rest of the week, you shouldn't expect the parts recently promised:

• In this page, the remaining parts
• In "Building a Baseline", Bitter Lake and downtown Lake City
• And in "Under Construction", the remaining parts

until Thursday at earliest, in any given week.

So happy days and nights until then, dear Diary.

Abandoned Pages, part X: Counties

Dear Diary,

We're almost done here.  This is the last of these from your youth, in this case December 2022; next comes one from late 2024, then updates on the two current pages.

Why?

I'm really not sure.

This was definitely conceived as a desk project, like library hours, and in fact with the library hours remit of western Washington.

It was much my most vainglorious idea, but at least I had the sense to start small, with Skamania County.

What?

The only post was an introduction, claiming that I could find all the public restrooms in each county using online sources.

It turned out that the job grew substantially in the doing, even with the first, simplest county, in which, for example, I tallied but didn't name fifteen settlements:

1. Stevenson, county seat, incorporated, in my terms a "city"
2. North Bonneville, incorporated, "city"
3. Carson, census-designated place, "city"
4. North Washougal River, "suburb"
5. Underwood, "suburb"
6. Prindle, "hamlet"
7. a "hamlet" around Volcanic Manufacturing
8. Cook, a "hamlet"
9. Northwoods, a "village"
10. Skamania, a "village"
11. Stabler, a "village"
12. Home Valley, a "village"
13. Mill A, a "village"
14. Mount Pleasant, a "rural centre"
15. Hood, a conglomeration adding up to a "rural centre"

It's characteristic of Skamania County that both its suburbs are suburban to cities in other counties:  Underwood to White Salmon in Klickitat County, and North Washougal River to Washougal in Clark County.

Why not?

Because I got a very demanding job and spent what little free time I had on a restroom hike of North Seattle, which I didn't quite complete.

And because, when that job ended, I looked wearily at the mountain of material I'd accumulated on Skamania County and thought "How I work is to go places and take pictures.  Why should this be an exception?"

What now?

Why indeed?

There's something repulsive to me about passing judgement from afar.

And there is public transport to eighteen of the counties of western Washington, though to do San Juan County properly, I'd need a private boat to the smaller islands.

But I turn 59 in two days.  Let's say I get a good job, and it's an accounting job.  Then vacation is mandatory, to catch any fraud.  I could study each county for a year, then visit it for two weeks.

Until I was 78?

And restroom availability doesn't just change in winter in Seattle.

Also, recent hikes have shown me I'm a lot more scared of heights than I used to be, and there are lots of mountains in western Washington, and specifically in Skamania County.

This task would obviously be impossible homeless, but just as obviously if I got a good job, especially if that meant sharing my life with others with their own views on how best to vacation.

Maybe funding could get it done, but maybe not.  I think this project was too vainglorious from the start.

It is true, though, that I'd like to see those Skamania County settlements I studied.  Though not with the aim of telling you, dear Diary, whatever the county does wrong. 

Good night, dear Diary. 

Abandoned Pages, part IX: Public access

Dear Diary,

This is one I'm not sure about.

Why?

In October 2022, I was working on a regional hike for the region most of UW is in, and I thought, this is silly.  Yes, there are parks in UW, but none of those in that region have outdoor water fountains, let alone restrooms whose doors open to the outside.  It's actually worth comparing UW's land to Seattle Center's, which also originated in a World's Fair, and which has both those things.

So I went where the money is, where, that is, UW's actual plumbing is, and public access to public buildings turned out to be much less than it had been, or ought to be.  So I wrote about it.

What?

I was making maps with a mildly complex colour scheme to symbolise ownership as well as status (open/operating), for the regional hikes in general.  I made that much more complex for the buildings of UW.  I doubt I have the software to do that now.

Also, it turned out that many of the buildings in West Campus have perfectly good reasons to keep the public out.  They're dorms, medical places (although one of those did offer public restrooms), research labs...  If I'd started with Central Campus, although it has dorms too, the point would've been much sharper.  (South and East campuses are, in this respect, rather more like West.)

Mind, about as many West Campus buildings are closed to the public for no obvious good reason.  The point was certainly made:  out of about 60 buildings, only five offered public restrooms, fewer on weekends.  Climatologists hunkered down behind locks in fear of the deniers so famously numerous in Seattle.  Fenced playgrounds.  Posters advising fear of every stranger.  UW was no longer the friendly campus on which I'd spent my days a few years earlier.  I documented part of that, had a good talk with one of UW's security leaders, and went on to a very demanding job.

Why not?

To a certain extent, I'd already met my goal.  Since, that winter, I wasn't even able to complete a restroom hike, I had no business picking on UW any more.

Fall quarter had ended, and since one of my targets had been unclear hours signs (I'd called one West Campus building a "trap" for that), I certainly hoped the signs had changed.  So I'd have to photograph them all again.  Since the doors were, in fact, closed, that was a physically arduous task.

And as 2023 wore on, the same lack of psychic strength that afflicted the downtown page kept me from returning to this one.

What now?

My main concern, to be honest, is that UW's Seattle Campus is by far the most extensive collection of public buildings in Seattle.  Much larger than downtown's (and City Hall is actually a reliable place to find public restrooms).  Only Green Lake/Woodland, Washington and Discovery parks, and Boeing Field, are about the same size, and none is mostly buildings. 

So I'd have to go out of town to find a comparable case, to be fair to UW, and even then it would probably be another school, and I'd be anti-intellectual.

I can get to Olympia's Capitol Campus, but I doubt I can stay long enough to do the job. 

Even in North Seattle, the only alternatives are North Seattle College, or Northwest Hospital (owned by UW, and medical).

The difficulty of photographing the hours signs remains, especially while I'm in school myself and have more important things to do at the quarters' starts.

Dear Diary, I think your readers' comments would be the only reason I'd tackle this before fall 2029.