I rained immensely this morning, according to Diane. When I got up, however, there was absolutely no evidence of nearby clouds, or wet grounds, to support her claim so it’s possible she just take a page from my ‘book’ and made it up. She does have a little wiggle room for validity, however, because she was up almost four hours before me. I didn’t get up until almost 1000, or 0900 Oregon time, when I normally arise from my morning nap. Seems that my night of sleep just carried over into my nap time since I didn’t have to get up and let the dogs out.

This new info gives me reason to believe that I should teach the dogs how to unlock the back door so they can let themselves out each morning instead of waking me up. Doing that, of course, would require psychological intervention for Ozzie who would be able to participate because he won’t jump off the bed. I guess I’ll just table that thought for now. By the time we get home it will be a lost memory and won’t be an issue.

After getting up, and having a very expensive breakfast of simple toast, coffee, and cereal, we donned our swim wear, under which we are naked, and trekked to the pool next to our building and spent a delightful two hours laying in the shade, floating in the pool, and visiting with other guests. Specifically, we talked with Claire & Meredith who are from Houston but have a marked British accent. We met them yesterday at the pool and learned that Claire, at least, is definitely a British native who has lived in Houston for the past 8 years. It would have been excellent if her British accent also had a Texas drawl, don’t you think. We actually touched on that subject yesterday, but I left that alone today. Also at the pool were Mike, retired Navy, and his wife, who gave me her name but apparently took it back because I can’t remember it. Neither can Diane.

Around 1300 or so, all of our strenuous morning activity made it apparent that the depleted energy received from our meager breakfast was in need of replacement. As a result, we are currently sitting at our little round table, that has ample room for four, which I pushed close to the wall so Diane could read her iPad, while plugged in, as he ate her imported dead chicken and noodle soup, imported Ritz crackers on to which she smeared her imported creamy Skippy peanut butter. Beverage of choice for the meal is Mexican water filtered through the imported filter. Desert is an imported scrumpcious Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Treat. In all, I value the lunch at about $32.18, including tax.

After we’re through eating we’re going to go walk on the beach and send you all mental waves of pleasure that we will receive from the sun’s warmth, and the fine warm sand through which we will walk. Every once in a while I’ll dip my toe into the icy waters of the ocean to … oh wait! The ocean here isn’t icy at all. It’s quite pleasant, actually. So, dipping my toe may go totally unnoticed by those of you who monitor my ‘pleasure wave’ transmissions.

Before I forget, we spoke with a gentleman at the pool yesterday who originally claimed to be from Sacramento but, he buckled while being questioned and admitted that he was really from Forresthill, California and his name is Jim. Diane and I looked at each other thinking, “that sounds oddly familiar,” but couldn’t quite put our finger on it. It was as if we actually had friends who lived there that prompted the feeling of familiarity. As we talked, however, we determined that it wasn’t associated with friends at all. We have relatives who live in that vicinity. We have so many of those, however, that it’s really difficult to keep track of all their names. I’m sure it will come to us eventually. Probably between bites during dinner.

The will now be an intermission, though you won’t know it other than the fact I’m related the info to you, as I read a bit of my book, and then take that walk on the beach.

Duh duh duh duh duh duh duuuuuuuh …. duh duh duh duh duut, ta duhduhduhduh, duh duh duh duh duh duh duuuuuuuh … duut, ta duh duh duh duh duh, duh, duh. Now, where have you heard that song?

It’s almost 8 pm, and a great deal has transpired in my absence.

First, we took that walk on the beach that I mentioned earlier. We walked up the beach first. Going “up” means the ocean is on your left. That’s always true when you’re on the west coast of any country. If you are on the east coast of any country, up is with the ocean on your right. This is always true, I don’t care where you’re from.

So, up the beach we walked, perhaps half a mile. At this point I thought I would be clever and insert a photo of the beach that we walked up as viewed from our window. But, in all my cleverness to segregate Diane’s and my Apple IDs I am unable to access pictures taken with her iPhone. Oh, well. Perhaps I’ll figure it out later and just add them at the end like I did yesterday.

The beach is not very wide and it slopes sharply into the sea, totally unlike Oregon beaches which spread for 1/4 mile, at times, from water to the dunes. OK, maybe not a 1/4 of a mile, but at least 100 yards or so. They are really wide, with a very gentle slope. When walking on the beach, say at Seaside, one has the feeling of being on relatively level ground. Here, however, the slope is great enough that one tends to swivel toward the water with each step, no matter which way one’s going, up or down the beach. It didn’t matter, really, because the water is as reporter, just like bath water. Incredibly warm. We just got our feet wet.

When walking on the beach we always keep an eye out for ‘special’ rocks and shells. When one catches our eye we snag it and put it in a pocket. Sometimes we even wash the sand off, first. Today Diane was looking for beach glass. Actually, that’s just remnants of beer bottles someone threw into the rocks at some point in time, smashing it into smithereens, and with time in the sand the sharp edges are worn smooth. We found quite a bit of it. In case you’re into this, my theory is that green glass is Heineken, brown glass is Budweiser, and clear glass is Miller. There are other colors, of course, but the three mentioned are the majority of what you’ll find.

The first shell we found was a nice little cowry shell, and it’s the only one we saw the entire time on the beach.

When we turned around, we walked down the beach to the extreme end of the Pueblo Bonito property, and a little beyond. It was very relaxing, and I picked up a discarded plastic cup into which I began stuff little pieces of debris that doesn’t belong on a beach. Like plastic and more cups. It’s just something we do when walking on the beach. I guess it’s our Oregon training from many beach cleanups we’ve participated in over the years. It’s gratifying.

Instead of walking back up the beach to the point where we gained access to the beach, we went up the first staircase we found at the south end of the resort. When we got to the top, we discovered another swimming pool about which we previously knew nothing. It’s beautiful and is right by one of the restaurants about which we also knew nothing. Funny thing. There is resort staff all over the place in this area, but absolutely no guests. They really wanted us to go on in and eat something, but we weren’t hungry at the time. It looked like a great place to visit before leaving here, though.

We wandered back toward our building, #1, beginning at building #24. It was a rather long walk, and it tuckered Diane out a little to the point where she was sad that she turned down a ride in a golf cart limo, offered by one of the staff who cruises around looking for people who look like they need help. I have no doubt he was sent our way because they were watching us on security cameras and wondered how we got where we were without showing up on a camera going there in the first place. Good security.

We finally got back to the room where we both plopped down on the sofa and took large breaths of cool air. After a bit of channel checking, I discovered HBO on which was playing “The Hunger Games”, a movie I’ve been wanting to see by have never had the opportunity. Diane wanted to go to the pool and read her book some more and told me to stay and watch it, so I did. First, however, we each had half a PB&J sandwich and a small glass of milk. When Diane left, I made popcorn and ate the entire bag. That’s OK because she doesn’t eat popcorn. I’m no in trouble.

She took a shower and didn’t want to come down to the deli with me to check “things”, so she sent me off all by myself, hoping I will be able to find my way back to the room. We’ll see how that works out.