Author Archives: Jerrie Cate

My Workbench, Kids, and a Dead Chicken

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Hi everyone. I trust that none of you have been concerned about my absence, thinking maybe my advance age is the cause. That’s not it, at all. Though the ‘advanced age’ part is a daily issue, you shouldn’t worry about me. It happens to all of us … we age, we get some incredible wrinkles, our skin loses it’s elasticity then we shrivel up and die. Unless, of course, we have a chance encounter with a Tri-Met bus, or a semi truck, or just some schmuck who decided to spend too much time in a bar and had to rush home to beat his wife, killing you along the way. Or, you happen to be in close proximity of someone who wishes to kill themselves, and everyone in his or her vicinity, in the name of all that’s holy. It happens every day and, I suspect, will continue happening till the end of time. People are also killed every day in seemingly innocent accidents … they just happen. No apparent rhyme, or reason, they just happen.

I believe, however, that everything happens for a reason. We just have to be patient and wait a while to see what the reason is. Sometimes it takes so long that we forget the association between the event and the reason.

I don’t worry about those things. Whatever happens, happens. That’s why I’m seemingly careless in pretty much everything I do but that’s because those observing my activities have dissimilar thoughts of what constitutes careless behavior. There should be a standard of careless activity to which everyone can be held accountable instead of leaving it up to individuals to make the call.

The past few days have been filled with tasks that, once again, reaffirmed my appreciation of all that she does. That’s because she went out and caught a cold, probably from Jeran, and it really drug her down. She’s been through three boxes of kleenex so far and the she’s not done. She’s better, but not much. Not a lot of coughing, just a lot of draining. I always find it truly amazing how much mucous a body can produce in a short time. Anyway, so I’ve been taking care of her, as best I can, as well as continuing with my woodworking efforts with the baseboards. I’m ready to move into the living room area, now. Doing this serves a couple of purposes … it keeps me out of Diane’s hair, and it keeps me away from all the germs clinging to her body. So far it’s working and I have been spared, but I fear it won’t last long. I’m bound to catch something.

While working on the baseboards, I decided to dismantle my workbench. Not the entire thing, just half of it. I couldn’t do it all because I needed a large horizontal surface on which to stack everything from the part I took apart. My plan is to lower the working surface to a more manageable, for me,  36 inches from its current height. For me, that’s just below my nipples, too high to make it comfortable. It will be different for everyone because no one’s nipples are the same height above the floor. Also, as we age, they actually get closer to the floor. We all know that’s true.

At this time, I have the dismantled side pretty much clean, and yesterday I cut out six pieces of 3/4″ plywood which will serve as supports for the new work surface. Each piece is 29 3/4″ x 35 3/4″ and I cut them all from the same piece of plywood. If you do the math you will discover that the original piece of plywood was a bit larger than the more common 4×8 foot sheet. It was, in fact, 5 x 9 feet and it was once the playing surface of a ping-pong table used by the previous occupants. They left it when they moved, probably because the lone occupant was moving to a smaller facility and she had no future desires to play ping-pong. So, I’ve had it stored, on edge, next to the basement stairs for the past 5-6 years. Amazingly, it’s still straight and true.

Cutting proved to be a little problematically because I didn’t have the space to whack it up, and it was far too large for my table saw which made it unnecessary for me to remove all the clutter stored thereon. Plan B turned out to be my handy-dandy B&D jig saw which allowed me to take it apart one piece at a time. I drug the large piece of plywood as close to my shop area as possible then drew random lines on it approximating the six pieces I ultimately obtained from it. Knowing the approximating wasn’t the right thing to do, I got my tape measure and drew nice straight lines … One in the middle across the long way at 30″, and two others for the short side cuts marked at 36″ intervals. In a perfect world that would have resulted in 6 almost perfect 30″ x 36″ pieces. Using a jigsaw to make the cuts, however, doesn’t result in perfect cuts.

After squaring up the pieces, as best I could, I wound up with six 29 1/4″ x 35 3/4″ pieces. I find that remarkable. I also was amazed that they are all within 1/16″ of being square and the same size. A few skinny shims here and there and I’m good. Now all I have to do is decide how many draws and sliding shelves I want so I can finish it, load it, and move on to the other half. Since I don’t have another giant piece of plywood, I’ll have to procure some normal size pieces and make them work.

It’s 1406 in the afternoon and I’m still in my jammies. So is Diane. I’m cooking a chicken so I can make some soup for later, then I’m going to watch Lydia play a basketball game against Silverton. She’s still on the JV team, but rumor has it she will be called up to varsity for the next game. It’s interesting because basketball isn’t her favorite thing to do. She has mixed emotions about the move but we all know she will give it her absolute best effort.

The other day I picked Jeran up from school because Jennifer couldn’t get away from work. When I got him home it was just him and me so we played the piano. He’s been taking lessons for about a year and he’s doing real well. I got to hear his next recital piece, then we messed around playing duets like Chopsticks, and a couple of others I remembered. He’s a quick learner and really enjoys it. The piano he’s using is pretty pitiful, but he doesn’t mind. We got it from a yard sale for $50. I suspect he’s hammered all the spiders, that were living in it, to smithereens so they are no longer a problem.

Now I must desert my bride, who is reviewing one of the many stacks of magazines she’s been saving for moments just like this, crossing her name off the labels in preparation for delivery to the local emergency room and various doctor’s offices in the area. Because of her contributions, many of the doctors have cancelled their own subscriptions. We’ve had threatening phone calls from Publisher’s Clearing House demanding that we cease and desist this practice, but we won’t. That’s a lie, of course. PCH has never called us even once.

Now I must quit and move on to the dead chicken in the boiling pot. It’s been there long enough that I should be able to just pluck out the bones and add the noodles.

Airline Delays, Wood, and H1N1

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OK, I get it that folks might be a little upset about flight delays. I get it that many travelers might have a critical need to arrive at their intended destination at the scheduled time. I get it. The networks love it because I think it gives reporters something to do besides go outside and point out it’s snowing, or raining, or windy. I love when they do that, stick the reporter with the short straw on a hill, next to a freeway, and have them explain what the white stuff is that’s landing on the roads and the danger of not being careful while driving in it.

What I don’t get is those passengers who get all upset with the airlines for cancelling their flight and not getting them another one in its place. It’s like they’re blaming the airline for the crappy weather.  Then there are those who must think their planes fly around everywhere else, so why not fly when it’s 50 below.

No thanks. Not me. I’ll take a bus.

The foregoing, incidentally, is pure conjecture by me. I have no basis in fact for any of it other than what I see and hear on ABC, CBS, NBC, and FOX. All the noise I hear from those stations is consistently the same so at least some of it must be correct with regard to how travelers are playing the “woe is me” card.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not insensitive to their dilemma because I’ve been in it myself. Delayed flights. Rerouted flights. Cancelled flights. It’s just one of those things people should expect when traveling in the ice age. Plan for delays and deal with it. If you make your destination on time, and your luggage arrives at the same time, it’s a good day.

Bottom line on this is that the extraordinarily cold weather isn’t something that can be planned for. Entire cities have shut down because of the cold so I don’t see a problem with airlines doing the same in the name of safety.

Sorry – I meant to touch on that briefly then move on to something else, but the latter got lost in the melee in my head. That, and the ringing in my ears. Both are a bit distracting, making concentration necessary, something I’m normally not very good at. If I have to think about doing something, or how to do something, I’ll usually get it wrong. I do best what I do impulsively, without thought. Granted, impulsive behaviour has placed me in pits of peril more than once, and hindsight always points out the faults with decisions made under those circumstances, but in the heat of the moment, it’s exciting. Kind of an auction mentality where you buy things you really don’t need, or want, because you just can’t keep your hand down.

For the past two days I’ve been installing baseboards. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for the past 5 years. Baseboards needed to be installed for two reasons: 1) to fill the gaps created when the baseboard heaters were removed, and 2) Diane scrunched her eyes and convinced me it would be a good choice of projects while it’s cold.

Yesterday, I worked in the garage, cutting pieces to length and getting the mitres just right. Since all of yesterday’s work had outside mitres, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a simple matter of make two 45 degree cuts, on the correct end of the boards, and shoe moulding, then make them match at the corners. Simple, right? I have to admit that it’s far easier with my cutoff saw than with a manual mitre saw. With the cutoff saw I can come up with a solution much quicker, although it also makes it easier to whittle my way through a pile of wood quicker, too. Here’s some of yesterday’s efforts, the hall to the East Wing …

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I did the entire hallway which included 5 outside corners, and 5 doors. One of the doors is for Diane’s shoe closet. One of these days I might do a post on that.

Today was a bit different because I had to deal with inside miters and chose not to. Instead, I coped the corners because doing so makes them much neater. No 45’s to deal with. I’m not taking a picture of that, yet for two reasons: 1) it’s not finished, and 2) I don’t want to. Yet.

What makes this project particularly difficult is that the existing baseboard is mahogany that was installed in 1957. I’ve tried to acquire more of it, but no one sells it in the dimensions I need to match them up. So, I gathered what I had and pieced them together to fill the gaps in our bedroom, the front hall, and the dining area, but there won’t be enough to do the living room. And, there wasn’t enough to do the hall so I used what I could get from Home Depot that was smaller, but had the same profile. Now all I have to do is engineer it avoid situations where I need to match up old with new because it won’t work.

Our thoughts are with family and friends in the east who are dealing directly with the reality of this Arctic vortex we’re experiencing. We are blessed in our little town because all the bad stuff is just blowing over the top of us. So far. Things can change quickly, however, so we have a plan B should that happen. I don’t know what it is, but we have one somewhere.

Now, about that flu … Oregon has been relatively flu free until recently, but the H1N1 has struck close to home. A good friend, Jeff, is in intensive care at the VA Hospital with pneumonia and H1N1 virus. Diane and I got our flu shots in October when they were first available and, so far, have escaped the bug. We tend to stay home, away from large groups, when this stuff is going around, finding it increases our chances of escaping without catching anything.

Bundle up.

Insomnia and a Cold Church

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Last night was brutal because I didn’t sleep. Hardly a wink at all. Instead, I drifted in and out of lucidity, thinking about unfinished projects and planning on how they will be completed. While laying awake, I finished almost all of them in my mind. We all have that ability, to pretend we get things done. I’m an expert at that. Making that fantasy reality is more difficult. But, it’s fun to hallucinate.

I really didn’t think I’d be able to function this morning because while golfing yesterday, on one particularly exciting effort hit the ball, I missed it. Since I was intending to hit ball really really hard, I wound up pretty tight. When I unwound, things went quickly and the torque loss my body expected, at the point of impact with the ball, was missed causing me to bend in ways I hadn’t anticipated. The result was a brief, terrible pain in my back that I thought was going to drop me to my knees, embarrassing me in front of my friends. I fought through it, though, and remained erect. The price for that, I anticipated, would be uncommon agony when I attempted to extract myself from bed this morning. Thankfully, I was able to arise easily which gave me confidence I would be able to navigate OK throughout the day.

So far, that’s been true. I made it through a very cold church service and a festive, post holiday lunch at Burgerville. Our church was cold because it’s really old and all of the heat goes quickly to the 30 foot ceiling, and stays there. We do have ceiling fans installed to circulate the warmth, but it takes a while to get enough warm air up there to move around.  There are only two heat vents in church and both are at the front of the church. When they are closed, there’s no heat to circulate and the basement gets really toasty. The vents are remnants from the past when the church was built in 1908. Directly below the vents was originally a wood fired furnace contained in a small space. The heat circulated into the church via convection. When an oil furnace was installed, when oil furnaces were first invented I think, they were connected directly to the old convection vents, and an air return was added at the back of the church. So, the warm air would go up in the front, across the ceiling to the back of the church, and down to the air return. All the people between those two points remained the same temperature they were when entering. So it was today, even though we have three fans across the top, and a new gas furnace. It was cold. Everyone was cold because the vents were closed during Mabel’s funeral service.  I just so happens the only place to place a casket is over the vents. So, they were closed and didn’t get reopened until this morning, shortly before church which isn’t nearly enough time for the heat to get all over. It needs at least 24 hours. Not economical, but it works. The hamburger warmed me up, as did the cup of coffee after service.

 To ensure a successful conclusion to this day, I’m not going to do anything else except sit on the couch, eat popcorn & fudge, and watch TV, like normal. Well, not totally like normal because we don’t always have fudge. We could, but we don’t because I only make it at Christmas.

Winter Golf and BLTs

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I regret not getting something posted yesterday. Because of that I’ve already failed in my unspoken goal of posting every day in 2014. Therefore, I can pretty much relax the rest of the year because my other goal, of not gaining 125 pounds this year, is a relatively safe one. I may, however, make it up by posting multiple times one of these days.

Though I’m sure everyone finds that bit of information incredibly interesting, I must move on to more important issues. One of those is the weather.

The Mid West and East Coast are getting pummeled with terribly cold storms due, no doubt, to global warming. It has to be that. In stark contrast, we here in normally rainy Oregon are the recipients of some unseasonably beautiful days. Even the flowers think it’s time to rise and shine. Daffodils are popping up all over the place. Then, today, just because we could, Doug, Junior, and I went golfing. The 4th of January in Oregon and we went golfing!

Sure, there was frost everywhere, and the roads were very slick on the sections that hadn’t yet seen the sun, and the greens were cement hard, but it was a good day. I had my best round of the year. It wasn’t a particularly good one, but it was my best one so far and guaranteed to ensure my handicap remains one of the highest allowed. Here’s what we had to contend with …

The vest stayed on during the entire game. So did the driving gloves I decided to wear. They worked better than the golf glove I usually wear, when I remember.

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This was interesting … it’s a line of frost going directly away from the hole which was in the shadow of the pin. Pretty cool.

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Here’s Doug contemplating whether to get his putter or just finish out the hole with his 5 iron.

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It’s just too nice for words …

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Like normal, Doug and Junior got to the course before me and already had a cart. Normally, they would get one for me, too, and we’d split the cost for both three ways. This time, however, they didn’t do that. They told me they thought I preferred to walk, which I did the last couple of times because I need the exercise. So, they made me walk the entire course, in the cold, knowing my feet were getting all wet as the frost melted. Oh, they tried to get me to ride with them, by standing on the funning board and holding on to the little  golf cart chicken bar, but I declined. Doug did his best to make me feel bad about it by driving slowly along side of me as I struggled from hole to hole, but I didn’t let him get to me. I toughed it out. I might not be able to walk tomorrow, but I did it.

After we finished with golf, we made up and were tentatively going to Sunshine Pizza for lunch. I got permission from them to invite Diane,  but she replied that she had made BLTs for us. By “us”, I mean Diane and me. That was a lunch date breaker. I love BLTs so I went home. On the way I stopped at cousin Don’s house to wish him a Happy New Year, and had the added pleasure of greeting Herb and Christy, too. Herb is Don’s best friend who lives just across the street. Christy drives car #44 at the track. All these folks are gear heads and I’m just a wannabe one of those.

I got home and Diane constructed my sandwich. I gotta tell you, this is the BLT of all BLTs. Even though I chipped one of my front teeth on it, it was awesome.

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Now we’re kicked back on the couch watching the Philadelphia Eagles play the New Orleans Saints in a wild card bid for the NFL playoffs. We’re rooting for the Eagles because their coach is Chip Kelly who is the ex-Duck coach. He’s finishing his first year as a pro coach and is doing pretty good.

Now it’s time to stop, but I have to share my favorite quote from one of the movies being advertised on TV. I don’t know what the name is, but it has a guy who said, “lick me all over till I shine like a trout.”

I already know I’m going to love that movie.

Searches

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Sadly, I haven’t been very productive this year, but I have every intention of turning that around.

Soon.

While being unproductive, I found it necessary to review comments I found on a web site I follow called Slashdot.org. It’s an interesting site that touches on a ton of subjects, many of which interest me. Many of which do not interest me, also. I get daily emails from the site with links to the day’s selected topics.

Like this …

Every once in a while I find one that interest me enough that causes me to read the inevitable comments from people all over the world with wildly varying points of view. The one that caught my eye today was Suspicionless Border Searches of Laptops Ruled Constitutional . Some of you may find that boring in the extreme, and probably rightfully so because I think the minority of people in the world travel without laptops. Tablets and smart phones yes. Lots of them. The ensuing comments regarding this issue, which you can read, if you are moved in that direction, was interesting because they cot into quoting Consitutional Rights, and how risky it is to enter the US with a laptop. Personally I don’t see any problem with that because getting searched when going from one country to another is pretty much routine and expected.
I just don’t see the problem. Your suitcase is going to get searched, too, and everything, including your laptop, is going to get x-rayed. And, if a customs official, from any country, deems that you look a bit “iffy” then you will get more in-depth scrutiny. Some may call that profiling, but I’m OK with the term “gut instinct”. Someone makes a judgement decision and you get to visit with the security team, for whatever country you’re trying to enter, a little longer than most.
Big deal. I’m guessing that most of those spouting about abuse of our rights with regard to this topic would freak out if they found out you can’t take an apple into California from Oregon, Nevada, or Arizona. I’m here to tell  you that I’m less worried about my laptop on entering the USA than I am about attempting to get past the Fruit Guards at the California borders with an unauthorized apple, banana, or orange.
If the guard has a suspicion about you, they’re going to search everything in your vehicle. I think they even have dogs and cats trained in the art of ferreting out hidden fruit. I either read that somewhere or just made it up. Hard to tell. Now, the issue with laptops is that there doesn’t have to be a suspicion to search it. If the guard wants to do it, it’s going to get done.
So, does it concern any of you? The laptop thing, I mean. If you leave the country, are you worried that you might be subject to a frisking, of yourself and your electronic toys?
I’m curious.
Personally, I’m all in favor of frisking, electronically or otherwise. Wave your magic wand over me, or touch me if you must …

Parades, Football Games, & The Cone of Shame

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Today I flipped over to a new page of the playbook I just found and didn’t take my traditional morning nap. Nope, I got up and stayed up, and I actually feel pretty perky. At least I do right now, but it’s only 0954 and there’s a lot of time remaining in this day. I figure that as long as I keep moving, I won’t fall asleep. Coffee helps, too. Lots of coffee. And snacks.

I can hear your minds whirling with the mention of snacks which you all suspect, I suspect, think will contribute greatly to defeat my 2014 resolution of not gaining 125 pounds this year. Fear not for that won’t happen. I know that because I’ve been up for three hours now and haven’t gained even one ounce.

The Tournament of Roses Parade, from Pasadena, is currently streaming across our TV screen. Diane set it to record from HGTV which is pretty cool because there are no commercials. Just non-stop bands, pretty girls, beautiful floats, and lots of horses. It’s fun to see the return of groups that participate every year but more interesting is seeing how the floats evolve from year to year. They get more elaborate and technical every year.  Pretty amazing. Watching this parade, and recognizing how special it is, I must report that the Portland Rose Parade is pretty darn good, too. Growing up in Scappoose, and being a member of the high school marching band, as a drummer, I was fortunate enough to march in two of those parades. That was when the snare drums were huge and not strapped around the drummer’s waist. Nope, it had a horseshoe attachment that was way too big for my tiny little thigh allowing it to bounce all over the place for the entire parade. But, you know, I do not have any memories of ever getting tired while doing that.

Actually, I don’t have any memories of actually marching in the parade. I just know I did it. Someone told me that.

One of the announcers mentioned that one of the many high school bands in attendance was the largest marching band in the world. Maybe for high school, but the biggest, ever, that I know of, is the One More Time Around Again Marching Band (OMTAAMB). They have around 500 members and their signature song is “Louie Louie”. Surely most of you have seen them before. If not, you should. They have a ton of fun, and they’re fun to watch. Our good friends, Jeannie and Mary, play with them and I know Jeannie will correct all my mistakes. She’s that way, and that’s OK.

Now, for one of the best news events of 2013, that I can remember, Panzie has been release from the Cone of Shame. I took it off two days ago to see what she would do and after cleaning all the dry skin off her bare knuckle, she left it alone. The hair is growing back, and she can now effectively lick her butt. That’s important for a dog, as I’m sure you know. Though Ozzie didn’t seem to mind doing it for Panzie, it bothered Diane a little when we had company.

Here’s proof  the cone is gone …

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So, it’s a good start to 2014 for us and our pets. Things are well with us and we hope it also is with you and yours.

Peace and Love

2013 – The End

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I’m not going to bore everyone by sharing all the things that transpired over the past 364.75 days for a couple of reasons. 1) You’ve already heard about most of it if the news you watch chose to share it with you, and 2) I can’t possibly remember all of it. One thing I do remember is that everyone in St. Helens, except me, is sick on this last day of the year. It is my understanding that this epidemic is not restricted to my immediate area – folks on the East Coast have reported incidents too. I can understand that because they are ending the year with some pretty exciting weather events. We, here in St. Helens, cannot blame the weather for the ailments folks are experiencing. All we’ve had is cold weather. Not terribly cold, just cold for us. Maybe just chilly according to those who live in areas where the mercury drops well below zero degrees more often than not.

Nossir! I blame this outbreak on Little Kids because they sneeze on their hands, then wipe them, and their noses, on Real People most often while sharing a hug. I believe they are taught this trick in Little Kid School, which they attend when no one is looking, in order to make everyone taller than them ill enough to even the playing field when it comes time for cookies. They know, all of them, that a sick Real Person will give them anything they want if they just leave the RP alone. They will deny this, of course, because that’s what they’re taught to do at LKS.

At this point I must clarify the difference between LKs and RPs. LKs are mostly just potential epidemics on really short legs. RPs, by contrast, have longer legs but no longer have the ability to infect anyone with anything. I suppose that’s not entirely true, but that’s not pertinent. It’s kinda right, and that’s good enough for me.

Don’t get me wrong because I think Little Kids are awesome, even when their little noses are exuding a very salty mixture of puss and mucous all over their lips, which they end up wiping on their sleeves, because their tongues aren’t long enough. I can say this with authority because its one of the more memorable things I recall from my indentured servitude as a Little Kid. When I was a Little Kid, however, things were different. Now it snot.

When I started this, at 1958, it was my intention to terminate it at 2013. Though I could lie, and tell you I did it, I won’t. I don’t lie. I fabricate. It would have been neat, however, to bid you all adieu on 12/31 2013 at 2013. Now I can’t.

As I scribble, Diane is watching all the back episodes of Downton Abbey so she’ll be all up to speed for the premier which is going to happen soon. I kinda like the show, and have watched some of the last episodes with her, but when I start remembering what’s going to happen I need to quit because it’s no longer interesting to me. I will be watching the new season because I have no idea what’s going to happen, and I love the accents. My favorite person is Daisy who works in the kitchen. I think that’s her name. She’s the one who was going to marry William, I think, but he was killed in the war, or somewhere else. Now his father is teaching her to run the farm because he wants her to have it. Something like that.

We planned to visit Keizer, Oregon to bring in the New Year with some old Winnebago friends … no … friends who have old Winnebagos. When Diane came up very congested this morning, however, we nixed that trip, not wanting to contaminate anyone else. So far, I’m doing OK, in case you’re wondering.

Part of my evening was spent in the basement ripping my work bench apart. You may remember that I complained about it in an earlier blog and suggested that I might do this. Since we are sequestered for the night, I thought it might be a good time to continue that effort, so I did. The challenge was working around the electrical connections that were mounted in the front edge of the work surface. I just cut around them, leaving the rewiring effort for another day when I have company available to call 911, should it be necessary.

Here’s what it looks like down there now …

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This half of the workbench is going to be configured so I can sit in a chair and do “stuff”. The other half will be lower to the height of my table saw. I’ll just have to do something with all that wire. During this evolution I found an entire gallon of Liquid Nails so maybe I’ll just glue those 2×4’s against the back wall and call it good.

We hope everyone has a safe transition from 2013 to 2014. I won’t say that “I hope you all had a good year,” because you either did, or you didn’t. Me “hoping” you did won’t change that.

I can, however, “hope you all have a wonderful, safe, productive 2014. May you all win the lottery.”

Now it’s 2113 so I’ll stop.

2013 in review

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Just in case any of you are interested, here’s a recap of my 2013 blogging efforts provided to me by WordPress. I had no idea that I was that busy …

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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 8,100 times in 2013. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 7 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Mabel Ahlf 1918-2013

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Yesterday we honored Mabel’s 95 years on this mortal plane. She departed in the early afternoon on Christmas Day. The church was full and I learned many things about Mabel that I didn’t know. I attribute that to my lack of vision. The knowledge was there for the asking, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I formed my history of Mabel using bits and pieces of rumors I’ve heard over the years, and short snippets of stories shared by her family members, but never did I sit and talk with Mabel directly to talk about her life. That’s my loss. Had I done that she might have told me her past was none of my business, but I’ll never know because I didn’t take the time to try.

So, there’s a resolution candidate for 2014.

God Bless Mabel’s family.

Gilligan, Baylee, and Jeran

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Now that Christmas is over we look toward next week and the dawning of a New Year. 2014! Thinking back to when I wore much smaller clothes, 2014 wasn’t part of my vocabulary. Heck, neither was 1970. It was just too far out there to be a concern. It’s not a concern now, either, just more like reality making me thankful that I’ve actually made it this far in life. I got to see many of the Buck Rogers things of my youth become reality, we went to the Moon, saw photos sent from Mars … how cool is that? Old news, I know, but still pretty nifty.

The past few days have been very relaxing, giving us time to pause and reflect on things past. That doesn’t take very long for me since I can’t remember much, but it was a fun effort. Diane helps me along with hints until I guess correctly which makes me uncommonly joyful. We do this every day, so it isn’t something new for her. Deep down I know the answers, but keying on her hints makes her happy, especially when I’m right. Makes me happy, too.

Yesterday we received Gilligan and Baylee for their first overnighter with us. Gilligan has stayed before, but when she’s alone with us things are pretty boring. We understand that. So, when they both came it was a really good thing as they each had company with common interests. Here are their adorable selves, sitting at the counter playing with Polly Pockets … Gilligan is the poser on the left.

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Making it even better, Jeran skipped going to the movie with his family so he could stay and play with his cousins. He had planned to be here anyway, but initially considered the movie, then opted to spend his weekend with us. The girls were thrilled and they all had a terrific time. Jeran is great with them. Here’s Jeran as he watches “The Sound Of Music” snuggled under my blankie, without permission, but it’s OK.

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Baylee crashed and burned around 2030, then Gilligan at 2130. Jeran lasted a bit longer. It’s good they went to sleep so easily, and fairly early, but that just meant Saturday morning was an early one. Like 0600 for Diane to mediate. Jeran wisely stayed in bed until around 0930. Me? I don’t remember.

After a simple cereal breakfast the girls were sequestered in Diane’s bathtub with some Avon roll on soap. Blue for Baylee, Red for Gilligan. They each got a vintage Barbie doll to play with, too. They had a good time and didn’t splash all the water out of the tub, just like we asked them not to. After an appropriate amount of time, Grams went in and scrubbed them clean, then shampooed every hair on their heads, one at a time. It didn’t take as long as I thought it would until she told me it was one “child” at a time, not one “hair” at a time.

When everyone was out and dry, I was alerted that the tub wouldn’t drain and required my handy hands. This isn’t my first encounter with the non-draining tub, so I knew exactly what was wrong. Hair. Lots of long hair. It is my belief that whoever designed the tub plug was bald because his complicated mechanism restricts draining water even when it’s pristine clean. I would have taken a picture of it but I know Diane would have objected. It looked kinda like the fur ball Panzee barfed up last summer. Really, it did. Here’s what that looked like … don’t look if you have a week stomach because it’s pretty gnarly …

First, however, here’s the kind of drain I must deal with …

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Now, Panzee’s fur ball …  if you were quick enough, I had a photo here, but Diane was seriously upset that I published it. I must admit it probably wasn’t the best move I’ve made this year, but had to do it. Now it’s just gone.

The cereal was just a primer for the girls. For an encore, Baylee, who barely eats anything here, had a scrambled egg, another bowl of cereal, a cup of milk, and an M&M Cookie. Grams made french toast for Gilligan and I added a scrambled egg for her.  Jeran ate cereal, two scrambled eggs, and a piece of jelly toast. I had a bagel, Diane had a fried egg, and jelly toast. The animals didn’t eat but Breezie took a shot at an agile hummingbird. Thankfully, she missed.

Now I must go reconstruct Diane’s mixer (the parts arrived yesterday) and see if it works. The coffee maker at church has also been reassembled with the new parts, in case I didn’t mention that in a previous post, like you really care. The coffee maker works perfect and delivers a full pot, every time, and I only got shocked once.

Hope you all have a nice quiet Saturday which isn’t likely if you either like football or live in a house with someone who does.

Cheers.