Caulking and Other Stuff

Posted on November 4, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Not much happened today except for the caulking I did around the porch beams. Now all I have to do is hope for a 50+ degree day so I can paint it. Anything lower and the paint is too thick to spread.

Got a call from the VA hospital today to ask me if I was going to use the dermatology referral. I explained that I had but was thinking about making a new appointment to have my terminal back rash investigated a little more fully. The guy I was talking with told me he could set up a 3-way with my dermatologist, if I wished. After a fairly long pause, I explained to him where my head went when he suggested a three-way causing him to clarify he meant call them so I could make the appointment. I knew that, of course, but he didn’t know that I knew so he was suitably embarrassed.

Got my meds Saturday and now I’m almost normal again. Almost. I’m not dizzy like I was and I’m probably OK to go on the roof. I don’t need to, but I could if I wanted to. That, or just extend the ladder all the way to 24′ and time myself.

I’d ask Diane to time me, but she’s pretty sick right now. I cooked lunch for her and fear I gave her food poisoning. She’s pretty miserable. All I cooked were eggs … over hard for her, easy for me. We each had two of them … her with an English Muffin, me with a toasted bagel with cream cheese. For dinner, even though she wasn’t feeling well, we ate a frozen Freshetta pizza. They’re square and not too bad if you add extra pepperoni, which I did. I don’t think Diane got a lot of nourishment out of it.

As an older brother said, quite often, actually, “This too, shall pass.”

It will be better tomorrow. If not, I get to force her to go to the doctor.

Church, Pigs, and Heritage

Posted on November 3, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I didn’t do anything today except go to church. It surprised a lot of people. It’s good we went because Pastor’s birthday was November 1st, All Saints Day, so we got cake. We were actually late for the service because we stopped at Safeway on the way and got the cake. It had raspberry jam in the middle. Very good.

After church, we brought Diane’s Mom, Jean, home with us, just like a normal Sunday. It’s a good day to spend with family. Diane whipped up a terrific lunch of broccoli, carrots (for her), mashed potatoes, applesauce, and pieces of dead pig. We have no idea how long the pig has been dead because the pieces were frozen together so well that she had to use our portable jaws of life to pry them apart so she could fry them. They did, I will add, look a lot like pork chops. Tasted like them, too.

Diane also baked a terrific cherry crunch pie, our favorite from Marie Callender’s. It’s frozen, like the pig parts, and will last pretty much forever. We don’t have them often, but as soon as it’s baked, she buys another one just to have it ready for the next time we decide to have one. Marie also makes a pretty good lemon meringue.

I’m curious about that last word, meringue. I honestly don’t know how something spelled like that can be pronounced like mə-rang, or meˈʁɛ̃ɡ, depending on your nationality. I guess that falls in the category with why me, and most people I know, call Washington Worshington. In know, it’s a pretty minor difference, but I’ve discovered that some Worshingtonians take exception to my pronunciation of their favorite state. Funny how things like that come creeping out of the woodwork, like all the sudden naming conventions for some sports teams are totally unacceptable.

Take the Worshington Redskins, for example. Since that’s a double whammy from me, I wonder if it is, in fact, technically correct, kinda like a double negative. You know, like saying, “I ain’t no idiot!” or, more grammatically correct, “I am not no idiot!”

In my humble opinion, I think the ACLU need for everyone to be politically correct in all things is getting out of hand. The Redskins? Really? I heard one Native American on the news say that referring to her as a Redskin was the same as using the “N” word for an African-American. All my life the Redskins were a football team. I don’t believe I actually connected the name to ‘real’ Native Americans until someone complained about it.

Here’s another one that kinda frosts me … African-American. Native American, I get. They were here first, I think, and Columbus thought he’d landed in India. So, those he me when he got off the boat really aren’t Indians. If he had known where he was, he would have called them New Worldians. But African-Americans, to me, is an odd naming convention. If we are going to begin adding our nationality to what we are as Americans, I must be a European American. That’s because I only know what half my heritage is. There could possibly be some African in there somewhere that would make me, say, an Afro-Euro American. Then there’s gotta be Canadian-American, South American-American, Russian-American, Australian-American, Japanese-American, Chinese-American, and oh ya, Indian-American. Love that last one.

Actually, using the African-American naming convention, all of us have only one of seven choices for picking our nationality, based on where we were born.

Africans
Antarcticans
Asians
Australians
Europeans
North Americans
South Americans

If you find it necessary to qualify your continent, based on heritage, then I guess I’m a European-North American. But, most forms ask us about Nationality, not Heritage.

I’m getting used the name changes, slowly, and honestly do not have a problem with most of the hoopla surrounding it. It just seems, to me, that too much effort is being devoted to making it all a big deal. I’ve, personally, got more important things to worry about. If you’re offended, I’m sorry, and you have permission to call me absolutely anything you want. If you do that, don’t expect a reaction from me if your intent is to offend me, it’s a wasted effort. I’m a honky, whitey, haole, whatever. It’s not going to affect me or how I act. Honest. I’ll still do dumb things and might even reinforce whatever pet name with which you wish to anoint me.

Wow! I have no idea where that soap box came from?

OK – I understand why people, all of them, have a tribal need, if you will, to identify with their heritage. That’s fine. I think I’ll start putting down Oregonian-North American on forms that ask for race. One of my brothers is Nebraskan-North American, and another is Wyomingan-North American. I’m the only one in my family who married a woman of the same race as me. Diane is also an Oregonian-North American.

This is just getting stupid and I cannot find a safe way to extract myself from this topic other than to just quit. I regret going down that rabbit hole, and mean no offense to rabbits by using that term.

And, I apologize to all the pigs, cows, chickens, and turkeys of the world because at some point in my life I will consume some of you and/or your offspring. I really don’t think you care about it, but there it is.

I must quit.

Hunting Season

Posted on November 2, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

The local deer found out it’s hunting season so they’ve taken up residence in our back yard. Our dogs, who bark at pretty much everything that acts like it’s going to move, went to the back yard and didn’t even know the deer were there.

This is the doe and her fawns that grew up two lots west of us. They usually visit, but don’t hang out, so this is proof that they know hunters are out and about.

Duloxetine and Xfinity

Posted on November 2, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Life is interesting at this time – more so for Diane than me, because I just kind of float around wondering if I’m really going to fall down, of if it’s an illusion manifested to keep me on my little toes. Regardless of how I feel, we both agree that being on the roof today isn’t a good idea. Actually, being vertical isn’t a good idea.

So, I get to sit around all day and only have to make occasional trips to the bathroom, when I remember it’s necessary.

The reason for my current state is the result of running out of Cymbalta 4-5 days ago. This happened while wrangling with my civilian medical provider, who initiated my current refillable script last year before selling her medical practice to another doctor. Then, when I needed the refill, the new doctor’s staff reported that I was no longer a patient at their practice. So, I had to make an appointment to get back on their roles. To their credit, they submitted the refill the day I made the appointment, not the day it was scheduled, which was about 4 days later, but the refill has yet to arrive.

Consequently, the effects on my tiny brain are pretty profound. Here’s what I found on the internet about it …

Cymbalta withdrawal

Withdrawal side effects of Cymbalta include aggression, anxiety, balance problems, blurred vision, zapping sensations in the head, constipation, crying spells, depersonalization, diarrhea, dizziness, fatigue, flatulence, flu-like symptoms, hostility, mood swings, indigestion, migraines, lethargy or drowsiness, paranoia, sleep disturbances, cramps, ringing in ears, worsened depression, severe restlessness, nausea, headaches, unpleasant sensations such as tingling or burning, vomiting, irritability or nightmares.

Having shared all that, I also share that I do not take this med for depression. I take it for nerve pain and it helps. Oddly, however, since being without it for a number of days, the overriding sensation is vertigo.

Diane thinks I have all those symptoms whether or not I’m taking my meds.

I have permission to wither away this Saturday, indulging in my required NCAA football ‘fix’, and playing with my Xfinity X1 remote. Did you know that this astounding remote unit will allow you to watch whatever channel you wish while displaying all of the scores, and current statues of a game, for any sport? All you need to do it press the round, red “C” button. How convenient is that? In this house it’s mine alone because it would, literally, drive Diane over the edge.

In my current state it’s just … fun.

Ya know?

More Painting, American Legion, Trojans and Beavers

Posted on November 1, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

The painting is done, I think, but there’s still paint left over so I may have to do more. We’ll see. Oh wait, there’s still the underside of the upper and lower porches. And, maybe even the underside of the covered area where we store all the yard tools. I suppose it’s got a name, as porches go, but it’s just “the porch outside the kitchen door” to me. Maybe it’s the “kitchen porch”. I don’t know, doesn’t matter. It’s also a covered place where all the neighborhood cats come to get a free snack pretty much every day.

So, I guess the painting really isn’t done, is it? That’s rhetorical so you don’t have to answer, unless you really want to. I tend to answer rhetorical questions all the time.

Although the painting really isn’t done, as I initially reported, I did get a lot of it done, some of it from the top of some perilously tall ladders, and from the roof. Diane was concerned much of the time because I had to dig holes to make the ladder level on the less than level portion that goes around to the daylight basement. Or, cement blocks and rocks to level things out on the back stairs. The only casualty I had was when the ladder attachment I have creates a wider, more stable area at the top of the ladder, fell off and made an exciting amount of noise that caused Diane to rush onto the porch to see if I was prone or vertical. It missed me, by a hair, but I felt the wind.

This house has a large expanse of eaves that caused me great concern because it’s all overhead work. But, it’s roller work, not a brush. Incidentally, in case I didn’t mention it previously, all the other painting I’ve done was with a 2.5 inch brush, and a 3 inch roller. The bulk of it was done yesterday and it absolutely killed my poor little right arm. I know, that’s whining, but it’s true. Though it hurt, I continued anyway because I’m on a deadline. I don’t know what it is, but I’m on one.

After painting all day, I was allowed to sit for about 20 minutes before I had to go to the St. Helens Moose Lodge for a monthly American Legion meeting. I figured it was probably a good idea that I went to the meeting because I’m the Sgt. At Arms.

I know what you’re thinking … why would any reputable organization vote me into a position like that, right? Well, no one wanted to do it so I volunteered. Now you’re thinking, “why would you volunteer for anything? Have you learned nothing over all these years?”

Apparently not, but this exalted position comes with a really nifty pin for my hat, denoting my position as a club officer. Don’t forget, too, that I’m our church council president. I volunteered for that one, too. Guess I’ll never learn, will I? My only comment regarding all of this is that both jobs need to be done and someone needs to do them. So, I do them. It gives me a false sense of power. Some day, if I keep volunteering, I’m going to get one of those jobs that comes with a hammer.

Now, about having an American Legion meeting at the Moose Club? We do it because they let us. The AM used to have its own building but they got rid of it for some reason, a long time before I joined the club. Seems like, maybe, the building was condemned. I’m not positive about that, but my friend, Doug, knows the answer. He told me tonight that he wastes a lot of time reading my entries here so maybe he’ll help me out. Maybe not.

I’m currently watching a recording of the USC Trojans vs. Oregon St. Beavers in a Pac-12 battle. Although I’m from Oregon, and logic says I should cheer for the Beavers, another line of logic says it makes far more sense to me to cheer for a team named after an animal that cuts down trees with its teeth rather than for a team named after a popular condom, that comes in a stunning array of festive colors, I’m told.

I jest, of course.

In truth, however, I just don’t like USC. It’s nothing personal. It’s just that I’m from Oregon. I’m also a Duck fan. And, I used to work at the Trojan Nuclear Power Plant, the same place Homer Simpson worked, so what do I know. I understand that Homer is just pretend, but everything that happens in Homer’s fake life is Oregon-based, including his place of employment. Sadly, the Trojan plant has been dismantled, and the cooling tower was destroyed, but it lives on in Homer’s life.

I’m done here … goodnight

Happy Halloween from Halloween Town

Posted on October 31, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

We live on a dead-end street in “Old People” territory so we don’t get your normal, run of the mill trick or treaters. Whoever stops by our house has to want to be here for other reasons besides candy. For that reason, we just had an influx of 4 children all of whom are related to us in some manner. Three were grand children, and one was a cousin of the largest grand child. All of them are girls. Daniel was the only one of the manly persuasion who showed up.

Cedric told his Mom she look like a tennis shoe. What do you think? I think she’s just cute.

Today was another busy day of painting for both of us. We’re still not completely done, but we’re getting there. It didn’t rain today like we thought it would so we had a reprieve. Tomorrow it’s supposed to start raining sometime late afternoon. I’ll believe it when I see it and will continue working on these outdoor projects until the paint starts running off the side of the house. Then I’ll take a picture for you.

Another interesting moment was when Diane decided to vacuum the weeds around the rhodies I hacked down. As you can see, they are sprouting and will be all bushed out in no time at all. You can also see the progress Diane made with the shop vac ..

She wasn’t vacuuming weeds. I was kidding. She was vacuuming up paint chips and dirt. We were at this until it got dark at 7 pm. Tomorrow Diane isn’t going to be able to walk because her knees are toast, and I have terminal pain in my right shoulder. But, we’re on a roll and will keep it going.

Had a Taco Bell supper tonight. Diane buzzed down to the drive-thru in her nightie to get it.

That’s it.

Scraping, Painting, and Mowing

Posted on October 30, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Today was another beauty. Cold, but pretty. I spent all of it painting the pointy end of the house, and the trim around the garage doors. Oh, and one window frame.

Doesn’t seem like much, does it?

Before painting, I did some more scraping on places that needed it. Oh, and I went to the Lions Club paper boxes to straighten them up. Today is Fred’s day, but I didn’t get it done yesterday, my day, so I had to do it early this morning before Fred got there and found out. Consequently, when Fred did get there, he didn’t have anything to do, which is really the point. He’s much older than me.

Maybe that’s why I didn’t get much painting done. I did other stuff, first. Tomorrow that’s going to be different. I’m starting out with painting, and it’s going to get done. All of it. And, I have to get it done by 4 pm because someone told me that it’s probably going to rain tomorrow. That, and after 4 pm it starts getting colder and paint doesn’t work so well. It’s pretty stiff when it gets down around freezing.

There was something really important I wanted to share with everyone, but I can’t remember what it was.

One interesting thing today was when Diane sucked up all the leaves in our front yard. She used the lawn mower, something she doesn’t use very often. So, it was no surprise when I heard the distinctive sound of twirling lawn mower blades hit a rock. Shortly thereafter Diane called to tell me she ran over a rock and needed help. I went over and found a very large rock under the edge of the mower deck. The most interesting thing about that was the mower had drug this rock about 10 feet away from where it normally resides.

I stopped the mower deck and killed the engine so we could extract the rock. I had to lift the mower so Diane could pull it out. Then she went back to finishing up with a new awareness about how wide the mower deck is. She only had a couple of swipes to make to finish up. I watched her take off, beating on the button that engages the mower deck, trying to get it to start. When she turned around and could see me I pantomimed that she should pull the button, not push it. It was very entertaining.

But, you know what? She did a great job and cleaning up the front lawn was a huge help for me and I appreciate it. I know her so well that I’m absolutely positive that she’s going to be upset that I shared that with you. It’s a nice change because normally I’m sharing semi-entertaining things I do, or do to myself. So, perhaps she will give me a little latitude with this indiscretion.

Here’re some of the leaves she cleaned up, minus the kidlets. They are Baylee, Jerrie, and Gilligan.

Here’s what it looked like when she was done.

Now I’m going to quit.

Ladders, and Soccer

Posted on October 29, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Today I lived dangerously and climbed a ladder over and over. I didn’t fall off even one time. It was amazing. I actually climbed three different ladders. One was a six-foot step-ladder and the other two are 24 foot extension ladders. They are really only 12 feet tall until they are extended. You probably already knew that.

The reason for the ladders was to repair parts of the eaves, on the house, and to scrape of a bunch of blistered paint that needed to be scraped off the windows and wood parts. Then I’m going to climb those ladders, again, carrying paint which I will be applied very carefully to all the wooden parts I can reach. All we have to do is pick the colors.

Right now the colors are red, white, and some sort of cruddy brown. It’s going to be a marathon and it’s going to be done no later than Friday.

Sounds good, but we’ll see how that goes.

The afternoon was spent driving to Rex Putnam High School in Milwaukie for Lydia’s last soccer game. Her team lost 3-1, but it was still a good game. The girls played very hard against a rough team who apparently had the referees in their pockets. Lydia got knocked down by a girl about twice her size and she fell on the ball. The other girl kicked Lydia in the leg while, supposedly, kicking at the ball.

Spilt milk, I know. It’s done, and bruises heal … but wait until next year.

It’s 9:05 pm now, and we vowed to call it a night at 9, so I better get going before I get in more trouble. Got more scraping to do in the morning, then painting in the afternoon.

More ladder time.

News at 11.

Oh! And Jerry & Nelda made it home this afternoon. They left our house Saturday morning and drove 400 miles before finding their way back. I think Jerry made a few more left turns than right ones. But, they’re safe, for now.

Doctors, Showers, Bunco, and Sunsets

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Monday, my most favorite day of the week … it was a bright sunny one, too, making it even better. And, it was cold. But I wore shorts anyway.

This morning I had a doctor appointment, here in town, just because I haven’t seen a local doctor for almost a year and there is a Oregon law that requires all citizens to do that, or else! So, even though I’ve been adequately cared for by the VA for all that time, I must adhere to Oregon Law or else move to Canada. It’s a rule. Another reason I had to see my local doctor is because she prescribes me meds the VA can’t. That’s actually a better reason than obeying the fictitious Oregon law.

The appointment was at 11:20 am so I had a couple of hours to kill after waking up from my nap. Knowing I’d have to wash my entire body before going to the doctor, I just left my jammies on and got to work on an inside project. This morning that was adding the moulding around the opening between the kitchen and dining areas which has been mould-less for 8 years. I’ve had the wood in the basement all this time, but it just never got to be all that important until this morning. That’s because the Bunco Babes were descending on our home and Diane was ready for them to see that I actually did things around here. At least once in a while. So, I did it. I actually cut the trim yesterday, but had to make an adjustment to the width of the opening , making it an inch narrower, so I wouldn’t have to rip the pieces that go on either side of the external wall part. I know. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s the way it is. The trim is 2.5 inches wide, and the area, on the outside wall, was only 1.75 inches wide. In order for me to avoid ripping off an inch of the trim, allowing for a 1/4 inch reveal, I decided to add an inch to the surface area around which the trim would be placed. That made it 2.75 inches, just enough for my 1/4 inch reveal. Clear as radar, right? Me too. I took a lot of thinking for me to get it all straight in my head, and to get the pieces all cut with a decent mitre so they wouldn’t look too bad from a distance. The mitres are near the ceiling so accuracy isn’t as crucial as it normally would be. Like, if it was closer to eye level, like a cabinet or something.

After getting that partially done I ran to my bathroom and got myself all wet and shiny, added some soap, bubbled up, and scrubbed my underwear really good. We have a new rule in the house, for me, that all showers will be conducted while wearing underwear in order to cut down on the amount of laundry Diane has to do. It works OK, but I can never get all the soap out of them and they dry a little bit stiff, making them more than a little uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours. So, I’ve adopted a commando attitude and decided to not wear underwear unless directed to do so. When doing so, I also wear outerwear that do not have zippers. I’ve never discussed it before, but there have been zipper injuries in my past. They are absolutely brutal for the victim, and just hysterical for whoever draws the short straw and has to undo the zipper because the victim can’t. Simply stated, it’s a very agonizing way to perform a circumcision, even for those who have already had one. Enough said …

When the shower was done, I rushed out of the house and down the hill to the doctor’s office. I arrived at 11:15 am, as directed, got checked in, then sat in the waiting room, reading my book, for the next hour and 15 minutes. The lady sitting across from me, with the cast, had an 11:25 appointment. Finally, an attendant appeared and called my name. I jumped up and followed her to the scale, got weighed, then went to the designated room. The first question they asked was if I was still using albuterol. Since I’ve never used albuterol, in any form, I said, “no.”

This caused a bit if concern for the medical assistant, one of which was in either in training, or was doing an internship, so they asked for my birthday. I gave it, then they figured out that I was the wrong Jerold. It was the other Jerold they wanted. So, back to the waiting room I went, for another 10 minutes.

Then a different sort of medical gal called my name and, knowing I was the only Jerold in the waiting room, I acknowledged and followed her to the scale where I was weighed and measured. I’ve compressed 2 complete inches since 1975. I’m only 5’9″ now. Might have to start hanging by my knees from the tree out front, I guess.

When the weights and measure were satisfied, I was taken to a different room where my blood pressure was taken and I was told it was a bit high. I was asked a lot of personal questions, which I answered truthfully, then I was left alone for another 15-20 minutes before the doctor appeared.

She entered the room with Molly, a scribe, and didn’t look at me until I stood and offered her my hand. Even at a lowly 5’9″ I was taller by far.

The doctor sat down at the wall-mounted computer, and Molly came equipped with a big Dell laptop, and a chair. Together, they began entering all my personal data, as well as most of the data contained in my paper chart, which they just happened to have, even though just last week I was told I was not listed as one of their patients. That’s the reason I had the appointment, so I could clear that up, and get a scrip refilled. In all, I was in the room with the doctor, and Molly, for about 30-45 minutes. That’s about the longest I’ve ever been in the same room with a doctor for an appointment. Usually, they ask a couple of questions, then let one of their minions finish up. The exception is the nazi doctor at the VA who gave me my last nerve conduction test using large hypodermic needle with wires attached to his oscilloscope. He enjoyed his work a bit too much, I believe. I’m sure I heard him take a deep breath, and shudder, as he stabbed me with one of those needles.

I have a rash on my back, which the doctor checked. I obtained it in Mexico, I think, from little tiny ants that frequented the chaise lounges by the pool in which we spent most of our time. Now I learn that it’s possibly shingles, for which I had my shot after we got back from Mexico. So, I’m in flux, wondering what my lab test for varicella zoster IGG, IGM will reveal.

Upon returning from the doctor I was met by an angry grandma who wanted to know what took me so long at the doctor. Then she ran off to get Jeran from school because he was sick. When she returned she was still mad at me, even though I finished putting up the trim. Now all it needs is paint. Lots of paint.

After finishing my project, we shared a can of chicken noodle soup, then I took off for my board meeting with our Lions Club. For some reason I’m 1st or 2nd Vice President. I’m still a little mystified as to how that happened because I don’t remember campaigning. I was probably voted into that spot during one of the many meetings I’ve missed. That’s usually when stuff like that happens, when you miss a meeting, or three.

The meeting was over in 40 minutes. When I returned home the only place I could park was in the front yard. There were cars everywhere. Apparently the Bunco Babes don’t car pool often. When I entered the house, early, I made sure to get everyone’s attention and proclaimed loudly that, “the party’s over! Everyone out!” It got quiet for about 3 seconds, then everyone went back to what they were doing. They always do that. There are 12 ladies and they do this once a month so Diane only has to do it once a year, since they rotate that responsibility. They all know the routine, but still they give me their attention when I proclaim … the only difference is that the time between getting their attention and them ignoring me gets shorter each time. Next year they will probably ignore me totally. I’m used to that, however, and will proclaim anyway. While they are rolling their noisy dice and ringing their bell.

I must admit, that they have a lot of fun. It’s good for Diane to have this social diversion, and it’s a good way to get rid of all the wine we don’t like, or that has been sitting around open for too long. We start them off with the good stuff, then infiltrate it with the bad about half way through the game. Works like a charm. I think they do that in bars, too.

Lydia was sitting at Diane’s computer working on her homework when I got home, so I sat in the Man Room to keep her on track. That, and I wasn’t allowed anywhere else in the house BUT the Man Room. So, it worked out. Lydia needed a little computer help, too, which I’m always more than happy to provide. Sometimes I provide it even when people don’t want it. Tonight, it was needed. Lydia had to write an essay and create a PowerPoint presentation to go with it. Since she had never used PowerPoint, it was a bit of a challenge. Luckily, I’m a semi-expert with software people don’t understand and was able to boost her in the right direction. Though she stumbled, and griped about how boring it was then entire time, she was extremely proud of the results. So, mission accomplished.

Now the din has ceased because everyone left except Diane. She’s almost done cleaning up, and I’m done with this.

So, it’s bed time.

First, however, I must share last night’s sunset view.

This is mainly to show Jewel that we get to see some of the pretty ones before she does from her perch on slopes of Mauna Loa which is, according to Wikipedia, the largest volcano on Earth. Nifty. Makes me want to move there. Really, it does. Though it’s the biggest, it’s lava is silica-poor making it very fluid which is a more appropriate way to say this volcano has the runs. It’s making the island bigger all the time and it’s amazing to see. While we lived in Hawaii, in the 80’s, we were always getting news of houses being consumed by flowing lava running down the mountain side. The slope is gentle so everyone has plenty of time to get out of the way, When we visited the island we were able to walk on the newly cooled lava and see the remains of cars and homes that it had captured on its journey to the sea. It’s worth a look.

Here’s what that very same sunset looks like by the time it gets to Jewel …

Panzee Speaks – addendum

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I was using the laptop to share the last entry because it’s easier to use on the floor with my elbows resting comfortably on the floor. It’s just too hard to sit in a chair and type, or do pretty much anything, when you’re of the canine persuasion.

Because of that, I did not have access to the photos he put on the his desktop computer so will do that, now … It is my understanding that the group who was at the house Friday night were going to the shindigs as aliens.

Here’s the master … then the entire group with the large pumpkin used in “Halloween Town”.