This was the beginning of the end of the last day of 2018 for us as viewed from our window in the Hillcrest Inn at Seaside. Once the sun was gone, the fireworks began.
This is the view at the end of the first day of 2019. There were no fireworks.
We spent the time with our Winnebago friends: Terry & Carolann, and Cliff & Susie. They were parked at the Thousand Trails park on the west side of Seaside. The girls shopped, the men napped. It was a good New Year celebration.
While getting ourselves gathered for the above photo, an interesting event happened. I don’t have photographic proof, buy all will agree that a 20-something couple walked by us, heading for the nearby stairs to the beach. The man was dressed warmly but the girl was wearing only a skimpy. By skimpy, I mean the back consisted of one string. Once they got to the sand, the girl looked at us and waved (I waved back), then took off running for the water as fast as she could. Well, maybe she could have run faster, but she was moving right along. She ran all the way to the water, which you can see is about 1/4 mile behind us. I figured she was doing some sort of Polar Plunge a day early and was going to dive into the water but she stopped when the water was up to her knees. Kinda strange.
(this was written on December 19th and I forgot to post it – old age in action)
Tomorrow one of my girls turned 72. I’m pretty sure it’s OK for me to share that information because she isn’t sitting next to me right now.
From my perspective, every day with her is a blessing to be treasured. So, the older she gets the happier I am. It doesn’t hurt, either, that she gets prettier every day, and she’s just plain fun to be around.
For those moments when my security is in doubt, I got her a new coffee cup to (hopefully) remind her what’s important.
Happy Birthday, my Love.
On December 8th I joined My Girls on a trip to Christmas Mountain to select trees suitable for installation in our homes. We needed two of them – one for the Walters’ home, and one for ours. Normally shoppers ride around in a tractor-pulled trailer exiting in the forest of the desired kind of tree. Then we’d tromp around in the mud, or snow, to pick out the perfect one then say a little prayer before sacrificing it with the help of a bow saw made specifically for the occasion.
Once cut we’d drag it out of the forest to the side of the road and attach our tag to it, leaving it for the crew that roams the pathways looking for cut trees which they return to the binding station. That’s where they stick the bottom in a shaker to dislodge all the loose needles that don’t need to go home with the shoppers, then they attach it to a claw that drags is through a clever machine that wraps the tree up all nice and tight for the trip home.
Then we take them home and install them in the perfect spot in the living room, fill the stand with water, and cover it with lights and ornaments we’ve gathered from all over the world. Fortunately for me, Diane loves hanging all that stuff on the tree so I get to sit in my chair and watch the process. It always turns out perfect.
This year we added a security device to ensure the tree isn’t disturbed and to ensure it has an adequate supply of water.
In preparation for decorating outside, Jeff created a new hat so he could talk with the aliens surrounding us.
Little did he know that it actually worked, drawing in an eclectic array of beings from around the universe. So far I’ve only been able to capture one with my camera. I’ve noticed it lurking around the garage for some time now but never with it’s eyes open. When their eyes are closed, you can’t really see them. I haven’t talked with this one, yet, but I will …
A couple of days ago Diane drove me to the VA Clinic in Hilsboro so I could talk with the hearing aid doctor about the difficulty I’ve been having stuffing the right unit in my ear. It seems that my right ear hole is smaller than the left one.
On the way home Diane stopped by the Franz bread store to pick up some cheap bread and we found this …
Kind of interesting, we thought, so we got some. My guess is that some politically correct group objected to the Bimbo brand and caused the bread people to come up with this as a compromise. It’s pretty good bread, but I feel exposed when I eat it.
On the home front, building has begun in the development below us. An office unit was added a month or so ago, then landscaping was added to make it look appealing to whoever might be standing on the front side. They didn’t do anything to make it more appealing to we who must stare at the back of the office unit, but that’s OK.
Next to the office is going to be, I believe, one of the model homes. Perhaps the only model home. I’m not sure if there will be more. An excavator dug out a few dump trucks full of red dirt and a group of people scurried around in the raid erecting the foundation forms for whatever house will sit on it.
I’m thinking of cutting down that middle apple tree so I can more easily watch the progress.
That’s all I have for today. I probably won’t be back until after Christmas so hope yours is a good one.
Last Friday I was watching The Littles (our granddaughters) play with slime on the kitchen counter, fascinated by how the stuff just oozes between their fingers and drips all over the place. Then they just roll it up into a new ball, dabbing the drips into the ‘Mother Piece’ where all slime eventually goes prior to being stuffed back into the small plastic container from which it came.
As I watched I couldn’t help but feel an urge to join in the fun but withheld myself until I couldn’t stand it any longer. Grabbing a fairly large piece of this jello-like material, stretching it, wadding it up, just letting it kinda melt, and then impulsively reached over and slapped it on Gilligan’s head.
Everyone got real quiet as Gilligan shrieked, “Grandpa, what did you do?” I thought it was obvious … I was playing a prank on Gilligan. That’s what I thought, anyway, until I tried to remove the stuff from her hair.
Turns out that slime, at least the version I used, sticks to, and is easily removed from every known substance EXCEPT hair. Who knew? Apparently all the kids did from past experience, but they didn’t share that with me when they decided to let me play. That was a terrible mistake.
I worked really hard at removing what I could all the while listening to many versions of how they’ve all seen it done on YouTube. I even watched a few of videos of people practicing this new art. Feeling a nervous breakdown coming on I decided I had to make a decision and settle on the Mayonnaise Solution. I would have taken photos but my hands were all sticky and no one else thought to take any so that moment was lost. Just trust me that I made a mess, all the way down to her tender little scalp. The example provided is a milder mess than mine.
Getting the Mayonnaise out and got a handful and glopped it on Gilligan’s head. and started kneading it around the assaulted area. As I worked the mess, it started turning pink, taking on the color of the slime. This gratified me because it was apparent something was happening. I continued rubbing it on the affected hairs for about 30 minutes and magically it all kind of disappeared, just like in the video. I found it was amazing and was able to regain my composure with this new knowledge.
After it was all said and done, Gilligan forgave me for being stupid and was pleased with the final outcome.
I went to bed happy and slept nicely right up to 0500 Saturday morning.
At our last meeting I left you with a ton of questions about our impulsive trip to Memphis to visit Graceland with no clue about what transpired beyond that adventure. And it really was an adventure. Especially for Diane who drove the entire way … 6-7 hours on the road plus the time to tour Elvis’ s domain. In order to keep from being frightened on the way back to our hotel in Nashville, I slept. We made it safely but one of us was extremely tired and mentioned that she had whiplash from trying to stay awake not only on the trip ‘home’, but on the way to get to Memphis. Still, she wouldn’t let me drive.
That’s old news so let me move on. No more questions, please …
The flight home from Nashville was no big deal. We got the premium seats we paid for so had lots of leg room. Watched a movie, read, and ate hamburgers that we bought before boarding the plane. Nothing memorable.
It was clear but brisk when we got to Portland and it got brisker and brisker as we waited for over an hour for the courtesy van to arrive and whisk us away to our bed for the night. We stayed in Portland instead of going home because Jeff had an appointment in the vicinity of the airport the next morning so it kinda made sense to avoid two trips to PDX for him.
After a couple more phone calls, during which Diane got pretty tense because one of the calls revealed that no one actually notified the van that we needed a ride. The other call, she was put on hold and no one talked with her again until we were almost to the hotel. When we arrived we found out that the computer system at the front desk wasn’t working so people were lining up waiting for their rooms while they did their best to work around the problem. Making it worse, the young lady behind the desk was new. She was flustered, for sure, but maintained her composure despite a bit of hostility from some of those waiting. That wasn’t from us. We weren’t in a hurry like they were.
It was good to see the kids and dogs. They always get so excited when they discover that we really did come back. That happens every time we leave and return, even if we’re only gone for 10 minutes. Still, it’s fun.
We got back into the routine of our daily lives quickly. That’s not difficult for me because all I do is sleep all night then lay all day in my recliner until bed time. Simple. Many times throughout the day I sense that there’s probably something I should be doing but then I nod off for a bit and the feeling goes away. Since I feel pretty good, I’m sure there are times during the day when I either get up for sustenance, or it’s delivered to me. I also got up for a trip or two to the gold course with my friend Junior. As you know, we don’t golf all that well, but you’d never know it by our scores because we do pretty good on paper.
After a week of resting Diane made it known that I really, really needed to take care of some things that needed to be taken care of. So I did. I’d give you details, but I don’t remember what I did.
Jennie had a birthday on October 23rd. She turned 43. I’m sure that’s not kosher to reveal her age, but I don’t think she cares. She’s our baby, she’s still cute and adorable, and the shortest one in her family. I’ll leave it at that and update you on her longevity in a separate post … no … I’m doing it here … with a bunch of photos I randomly selected from my vast array of choices.
As you can see, I don’t have many where Jennie is looking at me. She’s always busy doing something for someone else. That’s her in a nutshell. We love her to pieces and are very proud of the woman she has become.
We’re closer than ever to getting a suitable tow car set up for the motorhome. Got the car (a 2016 Equinox) before going to Nashville and ordered the proper baseplate that will fit the tow bar I got from Cousin Don. It’s supposed to be here today. If it gets here before dark I might get to work on it. I’m doing it myself because I’m cheap and don’t want to pay over $500 for a piece of hardware that I can get for $300 and that I’m sure, with minimal assistance, that I can install just fine, if I can find all my wrenches. I watched a really good YouTube video about how to do it and I’ve had luck with other projects using media as a teaching tool. So far, so good. I guess the proof of success for this effort will be that the tow car doesn’t fall off somewhere on Highway 30 and go it’s own way. I’ll let you know how that goes. You can follow along by watching the video here.
Yesterday Jeff and I replaced the old, failing microwave. Finally. It’s been behaving badly for the last year or so. It would beep often as the menu cycled itself without prompting so we turned of the sound long ago. Then, a couple of days ago, I pushed the button for the light and the fan came on. That was new. Diane was aware of a sale at Standard so we went and picked out a likely candidate. It was a good price and appeared to be just as smart as the one we had. I’m going to take it apart and fix it. I’m sure there’s a video out there somewhere that will show me how. Regarding the new microwave, we’ll have to learn all about it. It’s interesting that there is no Start and/or Stop buttons. Instead it has Play and Exit buttons. Kinda weird, but in line with the times and probably makes it easier for very young children to operate the equipment.
Diane salvaged the large glass turn table from the old one and was going to use it for a couple of plants in the Girl Room but I managed to break it to smithereens while cleaning the stove. She’d washed it and had it in the drying rack next to the sink I used to wash the burner covers. They’re big and bulky and I managed to knock the glass thingie out of the rack onto the very hard tile floor. It was really loud so there was no way I could not deny doing it. Everyone looked. She took it well. Better than the broken antique ceramic cat I broke later in the day in a perfectly innocent manner while searching for a Comcast remote for her Mom, Jean. Her’s quit working in the manner to which she had become accustom and neither Diane nor I could overcome the failure to make it work in any sensible way. We thought we had an old one but couldn’t find it so went to Comcast and got her a new one. Took it over, programmed it, and it works like a charm. Mom’s happy.
On Sunday we visited with our Winnebago friends over supper at the St. Helens Elk’s Club. I only spilled one drink on Diane so it was a relatively successful night out for me. Thankfully, it was just water, same as the glass I spilled on her when the crowd was at our house a couple days prior. Seems to be a theme with me. It was a costume party and it allowed me to capture my new favorite photo of my bride.
Saturday was a very busy day, for some people. For us it was one of another, lazy late exit from our respective beds, a late breakfast (or early lunch) then some sitting around doing a lot of nothing. We had to rest up for the banquet which was to start at 6:00 in the evening. Prior to that the crew members in attendance had a business meeting for the USS Cleveland Reunion Association. Our treasurer, Rick, gave a comprehensive accounting of our financial situation and made it clear how much it costs to keep our organization functioning. After that we went through the agenda, ultimately agreeing on where we go next year. Lots of options were suggested, and promoted, but we finally agreed on Savannah, Georgia. Another new city for us to discover.
At 5 pm we started getting ready for the big event of the reunion by finding the clothes we brought for the occasion and laying them out hoping some of the wrinkles would disappear. That really wasn’t an issue for me because once I put them on they just disappeared thanks to all the food I’ve been eating. Yessir I just filled up all the vacant space and stretched those wrinkles away. It wasn’t pretty, but I wasn’t wrinkled. It worked so well that Diane asked me to put her clothing on for a little bit and kinda iron them out, too. Doing that stirred up some latent emotions from my youth when I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be a boy or girl. Right then the bra started to chafe reminding me that I’d made the correct choice all those years ago. Diane agreed and thanked me for pressing her clothes. Actually, her’s got stretched a little further than mine and, consequently, looked much better after i removed them. This entire exercise in removing wrinkles showed us that we no longer needed to ensure that rooms we get while traveling have irons in the room. Now I just need to ensure I don’t start losing weight thereby losing this new-found skill I’ve acquired. If necessary, I can hire out my body to fellow travelers so they, too, can avoid the need for an iron. Just have to find out what to charge, or if to charge. I might like doing it just for fun.
The banquet went well and we wound up with 46 ex-Cleveland crew members in attendance, in addition to significant others who attended. It was a packed room. The food was good and the raffle & auction items were plentiful. I have no idea how much money was spent in total, but one of our old Chiefs spent over $1000 on things his wife wanted. I believe that was a new record for one bidder. It went a long way toward ensuring the organization wouldn’t be having any financial woes in the near future. Rick reported that we were, once again, solvent.
After the banquet was done everyone went to the atrium and pool area which is surrounded by rooms for photos. We were making a lot of noise after the suggested quiet hour, but none of the other guests complained. So, we just continued to make lots of noise which made it very difficult for organizers to organize groups for photos, especially the guys.
The festivities were finally terminated about 10:30 pm much to the glee no doubt of everyone who had an interior room, and we all headed for our respective rooms. I think.
During our good nights and farewells I volunteered Diane to deliverer our friend Marsha to the airport at 0530 the next morning. Diane wasn’t happy, initially, but I won her over. Then she expanded the day by declaring that “since we’re getting up so early, we may as well go to Memphis and visit Graceland.” I couldn’t really object because, first, she is the only declared driver of our rental and, second, well, because she wanted to go to Memphis. Even though it was pouring rain …
Nashville to Graceland isn’t a trip around the corner. It’s about 220 miles and a 3 hr drive according to my map. In reality, it’s 220, yes, but 4.5 hours. The extended time is because there was a portion of the freeway closed but there were no detour signs pointing to an alternate route. The local folks knew about them but neither I nor our GPS were aware of how to proceed. So, I studied the map as we went and found a way around it. The long way around it, but we eventually made it. We stopped at a Waffle House about halfway to get breakfast and our first coffee of the day. Here’s proof …
Somewhere along the line we stopped at a rest area. They have names just like other states …
The first thing everyone who enters Graceland is exposed to is the gift shop. That’s where you can buy sunglasses for any occasion, just like Elvis wore …
I won’t bore you with the interior of Graceland because you’ve probably seen it before. I will say, however, that both Diane and I were pleasantly surprised to discover how un-pretentious the home was. It was very nice and we enjoyed it. It gave us a different look at how to view Elvis. He seemed to be a very nice guy who died far too young.
There was a picture in one of the out buildings that totally caught me by surprise and may also cause a second look by my brothers …
The left photo in the middle looks disturbingly like my first grade picture. The means (to me) that at one point in time I looked like Elvis. We just didn’t turn out the same in the same, did we?
After touring the mansion we exited the venue, which is far bigger than just the mansion, and headed home. We had a 3-4 hour trip ahead of us and we were tired already. Diane drove both directions and amazed me at how much stamina she had. I had a horrible time staying awake to make sure she stayed awake. Could be we died somewhere along I-40 and I’m writing this to you from an alternate universe in the Matrix. Seems real, though.
We made it home in time to get to bed about 8:15 pm after eating a less than stellar hamburger from the Opry Backstage Grill here in the hotel. We didn’t wake up for 12 hours and didn’t get out of bed until 10-11. We’re not as tired as we were when we went to bed but it took a long time to get some energy back. Plus, it just felt good to lay around doing nothing.
Finally, the need for food took precedent over the need for rest so we left in search of something to eat. In the car I searched on line for a decent place to go and we wound up at a really nice place just up the street. The Santa Fe Steakhouse where the food is excellent.
When we walked into the place an were being led to our booth, about 25 people sitting at tables in the middle of the room got up and left. Diane said she noticed that the crew was composed of sheriffs and firefighters. When the waitress showed up I asked if they needed to go out and get another steer before they could feed anyone else. She said no so I ordered steak fajitas. Diane ordered their beef enchiladas. Both of us were overjoyed with our choices. Not only was the food excellent, the wait staff was more than wonderful.
Now I must end this and prepare for our last night here in Nashville. Tomorrow we fly home from rainy Tennessee to bright and sunny Oregon.
Today started nicely (we got up late) and continued that way until we tried our luck at Cracker Barrel one more time. It was a mistake. The parking lot was packed and the place was jumping but we were still escorted to a table fairly quickly. Thinking the day was going to get better and better Diane pulled out her chair and sat right down in a large puddle of syrup. She jumped back up, which frightened me because she doesn’t normally move that quickly. Noticing my consternation she turned to show me the large wet spot on the back of her jeans. We tried to get a waitress with a rag to clean the mess up but that didn’t solve the problem with her jeans so we decided to leave so she could change her pants. I got up, brushed the bacon I sat on to the floor, and we left.
To say Diane was a bit cranky is an understatement. Once she got rid of the sticky jeans and underwear, replacing them with nice clean ones, she was better, but we weren’t going back to Cracker Barrel. Ever. Instead we decided to drop in at an alternate dining facility in the area. Of the many available, we chose the nearby McDonald’s. We haven’t been to a McDonald’s in a long time and a breakfast sandwich sounded good.
When we walked into the facility we heard music and singing going on that seemed to be a little out of place. We’ve never been in a McDonald’s where music was playing, but here we were. Looking around I spied a small stage with a microphone behind which sat Ron Crites, of all people, picking and singing like a pro. Turns out, he really is. An old one, but a pro nonetheless. It was quite a treat to sit there, eating my SausageCheeseEggBiscuit and Hashbrown, listening to him serenading everyone with some really incredible music. The man is talented. Something like this could only happen in Nashville. There’s talent around every corner, it seems.
After that marvelous brunch we drove to Cheekwood Estate & Gardens to see another very large house. To get there we had to pass through the quaint village of Belle Meade which, we learned, is on the high end of places to live in the Nashville area. The homes lining the road are enormous, with acres of lawns surrounding them and they are all precisely mowed making the drive appear to be a trip through an extremely well tended park. It is very nice.
We left Cheekwood just in time to join the daily rush on the various freeways in the area and had a serious concern about returning to the hotel in time to catch our bus to The Grand Old Opry. Turns out that today was the 93rd anniversary of the Opry’s origin. Our host for the night was Pam Tillis who was joined by Charlie Pride, Lee Greenwood, Vince Gill, and a host of other folks who made the experience unique and unforgettable. Actually, Lee and Vince weren’t there but it was still an unforgettable experience due in part to the fact that the entire 2-hour show was a live radio broadcast complete with commercials. Those just added to the evening fun. Charlie was great as were all the other musicians and singers.
After the Opry we exited the building through different doors than those used to enter so my orientation was totally out of whack. Apparently, so was everyone else. All we had to do was find the bridge we crossed after leaving the bus and we’d. It took a while, with lots of wandering around through throngs of happy people heading for the late show, but we finally made our way to the bus which took us ‘home’.
Nashville. What is there about Nashville I can share that you haven’t heard before? Probably nothing, unless you’ve been living under a rock your entire life.
OK. That was rude. Or was it? There might be something positive about living under a rock for a long time. I can’t think of one right now but something might come to me later.
We got here yesterday (Tuesday). By the time we got to the hotel it was 8-ish local time and well past our normal dinner time of 4-ish. We’re staying at The Inn at Opryland, a Gaylord hotel. That’s what’s on my room key … “The Inn at Opryland, a Gaylord Hotel“. It’s even on their website that way which leads me to believe that someone named Gaylord owns a bunch of property in and around Nashville and wants everyone to know it. That’s an opinion, of course, but that name is attached to a lot of different kinds of businesses in the area. So, I think I’m correct on at least half of my stated opinion.
In case you’re wondering about why Diane and I are in Nashville, I’ll tell you. We’re attending the 2018 gathering of the USS Cleveland Reunion Association. Yes, another reunion of crew members of a ship I served on. A gathering of the survivors. The last one of these we attended, in Bremerton, just a few weeks ago, for DD-808, one of the crew members died at the reunion. Turned out it wasn’t the festive event it was supposed to be. Hopefully, that won’t happen this time.
Our friend, Yolanda, was in the lobby talking with a few who had arrived earlier. Yolanda is the widow of one of our members who passed away a number of years ago but she continues to attend these gatherings. Maybe you’ve seen her as Anne Betancourt. She’s an incredibly nice lady.
Now, where was I? We had just arrived, and we were hungry. And the hotel, Gaylord’s hotel, conveniently has a restaurant on the main floor called the Opryland Backstage. So, we paid it a visit and learned a couple of things. First, the food is really good; Second, they have excellent live entertainment. A fellow who called himself Jeff Dayton picked and sang for the room throughout our meal, playing pretty much any song requested by the crowd in the room. He was pretty awesome. After reading his bio on Wikipedia I understand why.
Our waitress last night was Maria who is from Rochester, Minnesota. She is not tall, blond, and obviously a hard worker. After watching her scurry around for a while I asked her if she was a singer and she said she was and wanted to know how I knew. It was just a guess. I figured an attractive young girl from Minnesota, working as a waitress in Nashville, probably had aspirations of a musical career. She told us she sings in the restaurant once in a while and we let her know we hoped we might have the chance to hear her before we leave. Interesting evening and a great hamburger.
We slept in a little bit today and missed breakfast so mosied across the street to the Cracker Barrel thinking we might encounter some of the crew we came to see. That didn’t happen, but we had a pretty good meal then jumped in the SUV that Diane rented for us, a Nissan Pathfinder, and went looking for Belle Meade Plantation. It was #1 on a list of places to see in Nashville that Diane found someplace.
It wasn’t difficult to find and we both really enjoyed the tour. A young lady named Kellan led a group of us through the mansion and explained the history of the family who lived there and how they started out on the property. It was a lovely story that covered a great deal of ground and I was totally blown away with her presentation. It was just fun listening to her share her incredible wealth of information in such detail. True, she’s no doubt done this dozens of times, but still, she was really interesting.
After touring the mansion we walked around the grounds for a while, got all sweaty from the humidity, and called it a wrap, got in the rental SUV, cranked up the A/C and headed back to the hotel. Of course at this time it was rush hour in Tennessee so it wasn’t a quick trip. We didn’t mind. The scenery is quite nice here when you slow down and look around.
Tomorrow the reunion officially starts and I may have more interesting stuff to share. But, for today, this is it and it’s time for bed.
Damyanti Biswas is an author, blogger, animal-lover, spiritualist. Her work is represented by Ed Wilson from the Johnson & Alcock agency. When not pottering about with her plants or her aquariums, you can find her nose deep in a book, or baking up a storm.