It’s quiet in the house as I tippity type, as quietly as I can, because I don’t want to awake Diane or Lydia. The latter is here because the rest of her family attended a BBQ in Portland but she chose to stay behind and attend softball pratice. That, effectively, made her homeless for the night so we picked her up on our way home from our BBQ in Warren.
Our BBQ was at “The Twins” house on our way home from my appointment at the VA Hospital on “Pill Hill” in Portland. I go there once a month for physical therapy to ratchet my right hip into a position where it doesn’t hurt all the time. It was a 1500 (3pm) appointment meaning we had the honor of participating in Portland’s abbreviated rush hour. It was the short version because we were on the West side of the Willamette River where the freeways don’t run. On a Friday afternoon all of those are parking lots for a couple of hours, but the West side is a high speed run home out Highway 30 to St. Helens after exiting Portland’s core.
As I said, we were at “The Twins” home for our BBQ. They kind of ramrod all the meetings we have for our high school class reunions. This year will be our 50th reunion. It’s interesting that everyone in our graduating class know exactly who “The Twins” are, even though there were 5 sets of twins who walked down that aisle so long ago. That’s because we all know the special story of their lives that others may one day “hear”.
The BBQ was at 1700 (5pm) yesterday afternoon and was attended by Vern, Sam, Eva, Evelyn, Jim, Delores, Larry, Vonnie, Josette, Judy, Howard, Me, Diane, Laura, Anselmo, Shiela, Wayne, and Della. There may have been more, but those are who I can visualize sitting around the table talking. I was surrounded by retired teachers, practicing doctors, lawyers, retired managers, and such, many of whom I grew up with, and their spouses whom I grew close to because of these meetings. The food was good as was the conversation … it was like being in class again because I was sitting between Vern (a retired high school teacher & coach, and our class president) and Anselmo, a pediatrician. Vern threatened to send me to the principle’s office, and Anselmo egged me on. We had a great time, as we always do. Too soon it had to end because we had to get Lydia.
She was already home from practice and had left a sign on the door alerting me to that. She was ready to go so there was no delay.
Now it’s morning, and we’re preparing to head for Rainier for her games. The weather is just perfect … drizzling rain, not hard enough to call the game, but enough to ensure all the girls get filthy. It should be a hoot. There will be pictures.
Now Diane says I have to eat breakfast and get dressed. I have 15 minutes.
<><><><> there will be no softball pictures, the games were cancelled <><><><>
Now I can relax – so can Lydia. Instead of watching a softball game in the rain I get to participate in the St. Helens Kiwanis Parade in the rain. I’m thinking I might get to ride on one of the floats for veterans but I can’t decide which had to wear … American Legion, or VFW. Decisions, decisions