Softball and Pizza

It’s 5:30am. The house is quiet, except when the big dog barks at a deer, and the little dog barks because the big dog does. It’s full daylight already and will remain this way for the next 15 hours or so. Gotta love June. I’d burst out singing but that would prematurely wake our guests and that wouldn’t be a good thing. No, I’ll just sit here, quietly tap-tap tapping away on my keyboard until someone else gets up. I don’t expect that will be any time soon because none of us got to bed before midnight. That may cause one to wonder why it is I’m up and no one else is. I suspect that’s because it’s a “Dog Rule” … the first one who gets annoyed with them enough to let them out is the winner. So, I always start out my day as a winner. I’ve never looked at it that way before just this minute, so it’s a good thing. I should thank the dogs, don’t you think? I’ll give them treats, later.

Lydia spent the night so she could visit with Maryssa and get as much visiting in as possible. They don’t see each other very often so we were prepared to use severe force to curtail the late night gabfest, but both were so tired they just went right to sleep, no argument.

Last night Daniel took all the kids to ‘13 Nights On The River’ in front of the old court-house in St. Helens. That’s the court-house Wynette worked in for half her life, in an office overlooking the Columbia River. She was a court reporter so when she wasn’t in court, reporting, she was in her office staring out the window because she had nothing else to do.

13 Nights is an event much like a street fair where the streets are closed around the square in front of the courthouse, and vendors take over. At the gazebo, down by the river, professional entertainers take turns showing their stuff. For this reason I strongly feel the event is misnamed because not once is anyone really ON the river, at any time, unless, of course, they’ve spent too long at the beer garden. This “garden” is cleverly elevated above the children’s play ground in order to weed out the truly inebriated, and the truly stupid, as they can easily tumble over the low fence onto the teeter totter below, thereby improving the town’s gene pool. Those who frequent beer gardens are unaware of this benefit for the others who don’t.

I was going through pictures with Steffani last night and discovered that I miss my East Coast Girls and Guys so here’s a “Howdy” to y’all from Out West. Love you all. I’m going to wear my cowboy boots for a little while to keep memories of my visit current. Might wear my string tie, too. I may, or may not, wear underwear so you’ll just have to wonder about that.

Steffani was the first up this morning and interrupted my morning nap, but that’s OK. I was expecting someone to eventually get up. She was happy the coffee was already made and I was happy to learn that she likes creamers, same as me. Her favorite is hazelnut, same as me. I think that’s a genetic connection.

Eventually, everyone filtered out of the bedrooms, Lydia and Maryssa last. At 8:30 Jennie, Dan, Cedric, and Jeran arrived, and we commenced cooking everything in the kitchen refrigerator. I have to designate the ‘kitchen’ because we have a garage refrigerator, too. I cooked all the eggs, and Diane cooked all the bacon. Jennie brought hash browns. It was a good meal enjoyed by all, unless some of them were lying.

About 11:00 Bob, Steffani, and Maryssa departed for Hillsboro to attend the college recruiting ‘thing’ for softball. Maryssa is going to be a junior in the fall. The rest of us, except Jennie, will go in later this afternoon to watch her play in the All Star game at Hillsboro Stadium. Tomorrow is tournament day for both Lydia, in Rainier, and Maryssa at the Hillsboro fairgrounds. Maryssa is also playing Sunday, so we will get to see her play then. It’s going to be a busy weekend for sure.

Dan just left to take the boys to a movies, Jennie left to go to work, and Diane just left. So, I’m home alone with serious thoughts about using some of my more dangerous power tools to see what happens. First, however, I gotta mow the yard. I can only do that when I’m home alone. It’s some sort of rule that everyone voted on one day when I was sleeping. Another rule is that I’m not allowed to vote on anything that involves me, so they let me sleep.

It’s now 3:30 pm and I just finished mowing the yard. You need to know that. It took me 3 hours. You wouldn’t think that riding around on a lawn mower for 3 hours would make you tired, but it does because you’re always trying to keep it going straight, except for the corners, so it’s a brutal exercise.

… long pause here …

It’s now 11:11 pm, and we just got home from Maryssa’s ball game at Hillsboro Stadium. It was an all-star event, and some of her old teammates were on the opposing team, so it wasn’t about the win … it was about the experience. Maryssa did OK … she went 2 for 4, I think. One single, and a double off a ball that bounced over the left field fence. She also played short stop and second base. It was fun to watch. Here’s the swing that got the double …

After the game, we all went to Fultano’s Pizza in Scappoose … that’s the new one across from Fred Meyer, next to Les Schwab on the east side of the highway. Diane and I had a turkey club sandwich which was very, very good, and very, very filling. I’m stuffed to overflowing. And tired. A lot of things happened, and were revealed during dinner that I was supposed to remember for this, but I can’t remember all of them. Most importantly, I think, is that Maryssa didn’t realize the that the vice grips on the hot water faucet was something she could turn on. Apparently she’s not allowed to touch tools at home, so that carried over to her visit here. Consequently, she waited a long time for the water to get hot and was finally saved when she caught Diane walking down the hall who explained the significance of the vice grips. She keeps reminding me that it needs to be fixed, but she doesn’t like my quick fix, to make them match by getting another pair of vice grips. That’s a story for another day.

Now it’s bedtime …

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.