To the Moon and back

Posted on March 3, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

A funny thing happened the last time I was in orbit and I thought you might like to hear about it. As far as I know this information does not violate any confidentiality agreements to which I am legally bound and that’s irrelevant because I can’t remember all that stuff anyway. So, I’m sharing. I’m sharing the parts I remember, that is.

First there was the routine abduction, something I’m so familiar with now that I rarely lose conscientious when they stab me in the eye with that incredibly bright light.

They use a variant of the flash bang commonly deployed by special forces personnel on most of the TV shows I watch. I think the police also use them as a way to stun a crowd into submission. The difference is that the version they use only has the flash part because the bang aspect would draw too much attention to the other patrons at Starbucks, where they normally arrange their snatch and grabs. Snatch and grab is not my choice of words, it’s theirs. They told me. I have no idea why they use that term, but they do. So, there I was at Starbucks, the one across the street from Wal-Mart*, when Ringo (ya, that’s what he calls himself) approached me and reached into his pocket for the flash light he always carries.

“Ringo,” I said. “Do you really have to do this? I mean, I’ll just go with you. You don’t have to blind me.”

After a short pause to gather his wits, he responded “but this is procedure. We always do it this way.”

“But I’m a compliant abductee. Haven’t I always gone along with pretty much everything you’ve asked me to do?”

“A … ya … I guess. But I like using my light. It’s fun.” At that point he whipped out the light and pointed it at my right eyeball and was in the process of activating it. Just before he pressed the button I moved my spoon, which I always carry in my right hand, most of the time, anticipating events like this, to cover my right eye with the convex surface point away from me. When he pushed the button the flash ricocheted off my spoon and harmlessly scattered throughout the room.

You might think this would have caused some sort of commotion amongst all those Starbucks customers but virtually all of them were fixated on their electronic device of choice and ignoring everything around them except the caffeinated drink gripped tightly in they dominate hand. Those with laptops sometimes released their drinks so they could use both hands on their keyboards, but that never lasted long.

“Oh, man,” said Ringo, “now I have to do this the old way,” at which point he reached over and grabbed me by the ear, a universally known method of forcing compliance, and marched me right out of that coffee shop and into the waiting sedan at the curb. All the way I was yelling “Ow, ow ow …” but he just qualified his action by adding, “Wait until your Mother finds out what you’ve been doing,” which is just another proven method of forcing compliance. No one wants to upset their Mom.

Once in the car I greeted to George, Ringo’s accomplice, who was always the driver. Also in the car was Brucette, their suductress, who is only put into play should all other forms of abducting fail. Brucette was very good at her job but she’s never had to work her wiles on my because I’ve always gone along nicely. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why Ringo and George had to make taking me such a big deal.

The sedan sped away from the curb before I had a chance to buckle up and I was slammed into the back seat just as I was about to sit. After speeding around a corner, onto Highway 30, I found myself unceremoniously draped across both Ringo and Brucette’s laps. Brucette thought it was an opportunity to practice her art and started brushing the hair out of my eyes and rubbing my back. I tried to extract myself from her embrace but she held me in place (she’s very strong) even when Ringo grabbed my ear again tried to yank me to a sitting position. But Brucette held on tight. Consequently, the pain was exquisite and at the same time comforting. She was that good.

“Brucie,” said Rambo quietly, releasing the tension on my ear, “let him go. You know the rules. Passengers in vehicles are required to wear seat belts on this planet.” She bowed her head a bit, looked up at him demurely, then reluctantly let me go. That was scary. I know how George drives so getting a seatbelt on was imperative.

Just as I heard the seat belt click into place I also heard the squeal of tires, the prelude to an impending crash.

When I woke up I had no idea where I was or how long I had been napping. It must have been a while because I was aware of the reduced gravity which could only mean I was on the Mother Ship. Again. Just once I wish they ‘d let me enjoy the trip up but, nooo, they had to stick to their stupid doctrine. When full awareness finally dawned on my abused body I heard a swish as the bathroom door opened and Brucette stepped out of the shower … … Oops. Gotta stop and help Diane find the waffle iron. Apparently we’re having breakfast.

I’ll get back to this later. Maybe tomorrow.

Wrenches, Grease, and a Blond Mechanic

Posted on February 26, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

Lydia has a 2005 GMC Envoy that has a couple hundred thousand miles on it and it all the sudden started running a little rough and the engine would die while she was waiting in the Dutch Bros drive-thru. She said it also dies in the Burgerville drive-thru but that’s not as critical as a failure at Dutch Bros. This has been going on for some time and I’ve encouraged her to bring it to our house so I could help her change the spark plugs, as a start, in an effort to resolve it’s issues. Today she found some time in her busy schedule to drive it up the hill with her dad, Daniel, so we could get busy.

The first order of business was to remove Diane’s truck from the garage so Lydia could insert the nose of the GMC to get it out of the rain. It was one of ‘those’ days here. Spotty rain with an occasional flake of snow, and some sunshine. Pretty typical prelude to spring in our neck of the woods.

Once the hood was up we spent some time looking at the engine trying to figure out where the spark plugs lived on the engine. They weren’t very evident no matter how hard, or long we stared at it. Finally we gave up and came into the house and looked for help on the internet. It turns out that the engine is an in-line 6 cylinder, not the V-6 I presumed, which accounted for the reason I couldn’t find the spark plugs on the side of the engine. Funny thing. All the spark plugs reside on the top of the engine which would make one think they would be easy to see and remove. But, this is no ordinary engine. You see, each spark plug has it’s very own Ignition Coil that sits on top of the spark plug so there are no wires running from a distributor like a normal engine. Very interesting.

After watching a YouTube thing about how to remove the coil to access the plug, we went back to the garage. At this point in time Lydia had figured out that she was going to be doing all the work so I gave her a pair of coveralls that Jack gave me that I can no longer wear. They shrunk, it seems. But, the fit Lydia pretty good.

I got my tool kit out and we (Lydia) went to work taking things off the engine to gain access to the coil.

Although Lydia is a girly girl, she’s definitely not afraid to get dirty and she loves to learn new things. She also figures things out very quickly. She dove right in and dismantled all the necessary ‘things’ and swapped out the plugs like she’s done it a hundred times. She only needed to be reminded that removing bolts you turn counter-clockwise.

The number 6 cylinder was up under the dash-board and needed a stretch to get to the necessary bolts and things. She tried standing on a stool but that didn’t work well so she just stretched as far as she could and it turned out to be just the right amount to gain access to #6.

Here’s the door I made for under the Walter’s house the other day. I told you about it, but didn’t have the photo. Just found it.

Finally, all the plugs, which cost about $30 at O’Reilly’s, were installed and Lydia fired up the engine. It ran, but it was still rough which means that at least one of the ignition coils is bad. We’re hoping it’s only one because those things cost around $40 each. Lydia is going to get that info from her friend, Justin, who just happens to have recently extracted failure codes from the Envoy. Lydia thinks Justin may have mentioned that #1 and/or #6 were bad, but she couldn’t remember.

Without that info, and the fact that it was getting dark, we called it a day and got cleaned up. I offered her rubber gloves but she declined.

Then she and Daniel headed home. Armed with the proper knowledge I know she’ll get it fixed without any more professional supervision from me and the internet.

Here’s a plate of nachos I ate the other day that I forgot to share. They were quite tasty but I should have held off on a few of the onions.

That pretty much ended the day for us except for the old iMac that I was going to donate to our church. It’s back on the Man Room floor running like a top, but it wouldn’t even power up when plugged in at church. I found that a mystery that must be solved tomorrow. In the mean time, I loaded some software back on it so it will be useful for the Church Ladies. Specifically, Jeannie, our Treasurer. She needs something reliable. What she currently uses is an old Windows XP computer loaded with QuickBooks Pro. Sadly, it’s Windows only software so I can’t transfer it. But, I found some interesting free Accounting software, and some Excel spreadsheet templates that may serve the purpose. We’ll see about that.

Jeannie grew up in Modesto, California and went to High School with George Lucas. As far as I know, George is not related to our friend Larry although they have the same last name.

While working in the garage Ziva started sorting the contents of my garbage can and was a bit upset when I told her it was only Sunday night and the garbage doesn’t go to the street until Monday night.

Since she couldn’t do the garbage, she took a nap.

Actually, that photo is from yesterday when we were watching TV. Ziva watches TV like my brother Jim.

And this one is just for fun …

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I forgot to mention that Diane drove me and Jean, her Mom, to Longview after church today where I ate a Senior plate of shrimp & fries as well as nine pieces of chicken, a salad, and an ice cream cone. I didn’t eat as much as I normally do because I’m on a diet.

Cheers

The Mother Ship

Posted on February 24, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

I opened this because I was sure I had something profound to share but all that comes to mind is stifled with a confusing blur of naps, trips to the bathroom, meals, and trips to various places around town. That means I’ll have to share something that may or may not be true because I’m just not sure any more what’s what.

One interesting things is that the alien abductors are getting new ships. I learned this, I think, during my last trip up from my friend Arnold. Yes, they have names like ours but that’s only because they got them from watching TV. In their native language they all sound alike, to me. Arnold came from “Happy Days,” in case you’re wondering.

A few months ago Arnold told me that he was from the Aquarius constellation so you can imagine my surprise when scientists recently reported their findings about Trappist-1, the dwarf star around which 7, yes seven, earth-like stars orbit. Normally that would be a coincidence but I don’t believe in coincidences. I look at it as validation of what Arnold told me, and it would explain why we look so much alike.

I look forward to my next trip up so I can see what kind of equipment they are getting to replace the fancy things they already had. I asked him what they were going to do with the old ships and he said they would probably donate them to various governments around the world like they have in the past. Donations of this sort are the source of much of the new technology we enjoy. If you are a fan of some of the new gadget oriented TV programs you are probably aware of the technology these actors supposedly use. Just know that it isn’t fake stuff. The actors don’t know this because, well, they’re actors, but the folks who make create the shows have input from the mother ships, taking advantage of this large stage where they can showcase some of the things to come.

What fun. Perhaps I’ll be able to expand on this further after my next visit with Arnold unless they forbid it. Normally they don’t care what we share about our trips to the Mother Ship because they are confident that no one will believe them. I’m especially curious to find out how long it takes for Arnold’s co-workers to transit to and from Trappist-1 and to find out what they call it.

So, when I return with more info on this, believe me or not. Your choice.

My Stupid Computer – Phase II

Posted on February 20, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

I’m just here to report that I outsmarted my old computer. Yessir, I did that. Using helpful information I found on the internet I figured out how to make a USB boot drive that allowed me to erase and reformat the hard drive, then install Apple OS X Sierra. That task required that I dive deep into my past and reacquaint myself with the wonderful world of UNIX. It was a fun trip. I made it back alive.

Now the computer works just fine. When I told Diane that the failed computer now works, she asked if I was going to take the new one back. I told her “no” because I know, deep down in my heart, that if I did that the newly resurrected computer would fail again and cause me just that much more grief. So, the new one is staying right here.

As for the old one? That’s up in the air right now, but I’ll figure out something. I’m thinking about setting both of them on my desk, side by side. That probably wouldn’t work because they are both 27″ units. My desk isn’t big enough. But, I have some wood ….

Anyway, thought I’d just share something meaningful for a change.

Stupid Computers, Ears, Lions International, Jerrie, and Popcorn

Posted on February 19, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

Before I get carried away here, I need to add something about my trip back to Best Buy to retrieve my old computer. You know, the one that broke? Well, when the Geek Guy tried to refund the $80 because they couldn’t find any data to transfer he ran into a problem that required help. I won’t bore you with the details, like normal, but will cut right to the chase. The problem he was having was that when he brought up the purchase Best Buy’s computers had reworked the totals because the computer I bought the day before was on sale that day. So, in addition to the $80 refund I got an extra $200 due to the reduced price. What a deal, don’t you think? It almost made me want to go out and buy something else that I could return. But, I didn’t. I counted my blessings and left happy.

Here’s another update on the computer problems. I may have mentioned that I had perfectly good back ups on a 4TB drive I used for that purpose, and that the failed computer, as it gasped for life, felt the need to inform that backup drive that it was leaving and that no more backups were in the works. As a matter of fact, it told the backup drive that the backups it had could be summarily dismissed. So, bowing to the superior knowledge of my Apple iMac computer, my 4TB Western Digital My Cloud drive somehow made all those back files just disappear. Stupid My Cloud. Why would it believe a dying computer?

But – the new computer, the replacement, could access the drive, but I wasn’t going to trust it for future backups. Nope. Not a chance. Instead I set up the new Seagate 1TB drive that I purchased for the Geek Guys to use for transferring data. It works great and it’s dedicated with a direct connect with a USB 3.0 connection. Also, since the new computer so easily found the My Cloud drive, it also was able to drill down to the ‘Jerrie’ folder where there just happened to be a “Documents” folder that still had all the documents I thought I’d lost. Literally hundreds of them including one folder that holds a bunch of short stories I’ve written over the years. Those files were there because I apparently had the foresight to manually copy them from the old computer before it started losing it’s memory.

Life is so much better now that I have my Documents back. Sadly, the other thing that would have come in really handy is the Key Chain file which held all the passwords for pretty much everything I access. I’m guessing I’ll survive without it, but I really like all those passwords. Some of them I’ve had for years.

Last Wednesday I attended my first Church Council meeting in a year. Prior to that year off I served on Council for six consecutive years. For some reason I agreed to return for another round of abuse and was at Wednesday’s meeting to see what was in store for me.

The main order of business was electing new officers. Before any nominations could be made I spoke up and volunteered to be the new Secretary. One of those going off council was the Secretary and I can take notes. And I can type. I did this to also eliminate any possibility that I might be nominated for a position that had responsibilities. The ploy worked and I avoided getting a real job. Lucky me.

On Thursday I skipped coffee with the guys at the Kozy because I needed to study for a mess of tests I was going to have at the Vestibular Lab at Good Sam. I’ve mentioned this previously, I think. It’s all about the body’s system that helps keep us vertical, and makes us spatially aware. It’s pretty important, I hear. The testing took 2.5 hours and I appeared to pass them all. In the end I left with the knowledge that mechanically I’m kind of OK, so whatever it is that’s making Jerrie almost fall down is probably something going haywire with my tiny little brain. The Doc didn’t actually say that, but there’s really not another option.

During the vestibular testing I learned some amazing things about what they test and how they interpret the results. Bottom line, these folks can perform their non-invasive tests on newborns and discern if the child has any kind of hearing impairment. Really. A newborn. That just blew my mind. They do it with puffs of air, clicking noises, water, and stick on monitor terminals. One of the tests that checks the ability of the Cochlear to convert sound waves into electrical impulses that can be interpreted by the brain. My doc said they used to do this by sticking a needle through the ear drum then used that needle to induce the needed sound waves. Thankfully, there’s a new toy in town that does the same work simply by sticking a ‘thing’ in the ear canal.

OK. Enough of that. I’ll learn more at some point in the future after Dr. Brown reviews the tests.

Yesterday was a long one. I mentioned that Ahmed, our Pakistani Grand Son, a foreign exchange student staying with our daughter, Jennifer, gave a stellar presentation at our last local Lion’s meeting. Because he did such a great job, he was invited to attend the Oregon Convention in McMinnville. It was an all day affair that required we leave home at 0630 in order to be there by 0800. One of the first things that happened during registration was we all received stick on mustaches. I’m sad that Diane didn’t wear hers for the photo. Nifty, huh?

Many people spoke, some of them were very good, we had lunch, and we (Diane and I) voted for new officers for District 36-O. Another thing that happened was all the First Time convention attendees were forced to go to the front and stand in a row so folks could look at us. Hank captured us.

As the day wore into afternoon, and our time away from the house entered the danger zone for leaving the dogs alone for so long, we bid our adieus and headed out the door. We missed the entertainment, I hear, but we also got home before dark.

My Lion sponsor, and past District 36-O Governor, Hank, received an award. I got to document that. On the left is the Lion International Director, then Hank, and the current 36-O governor (the reason for the stick on mustaches).

On the way to our vehicle Ahmed had to stop and get a photo with his new best friend who was sitting on a bench outside the facility.

Now, for som totally unrelated information that may or may not interest you. First is a photo of our youngest Grand Daughter, Jerrie Anne Diane, (my and Diane’s namesake) during a class event on Valentines Day. Jerrie is sitting on the floor in front of everyone. That’s my girl.

Next, and last, is a photo of popcorn we had the other day. Diane has become addicted to popcorn for her evening snack. Although it’s theater microwave popcorn, we put butter on it anyway – half a cube for a bag. Then it’s really good. Sadly. our microwave is losing it’s mind, probably because it was hanging out with my old computer during the night. Anyway, it cycles through all of it’s options, just for fun, while we sit in the living room. That wouldn’t be so bad except it beeps every time it changes something. Sometimes it gets really busy. We’ve been waiting for it to quit totally, but it still perks along. Even so, it seems to get confused with the ‘Popcorn’ button once in a while, popping the corn for only a portion of the allotted time at something other than full power. The result is a bag that only half popped. That happened the other night so Diane added some more time and just let it run until the popping stopped. Doing this pretty much fries all the corn that’s already popped. So, I popped her another bag which worked just great, and I ate the burned one. It wasn’t too bad.

That’s all I’ve got.

Wondering about Stuff, Quilts, and a BLT

Posted on February 14, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

This morning as I lay trapped by a cat on our couch, I got to wondering. Not about anything specific, but about things in general. I find that life is much less stressful if I generalize everything and don’t dwell on specifics. Specifics require concentration and knowledge about actual “stuff”. It’s much easier to just make up things … for instance …

I was released from the mother ship just a few days ago and when I got home I couldn’t wait to get to my computer to tell everyone about that incredible experience. It was really awesome. But, as soon as I touched my computer things started going haywire in the electronic world and finally ended in the demise of my treasured Apple iMac computer. I fiddled with it for a couple of days before giving up and seeking the help of the Best Buy Geek Squad. I was so distraught (ask Diane) that I took the old iMac to the store without first making an appointment, like Apple Folks do at the Apple Store, but they took it in hand with the promise that they would extract all the data they could find and export it to the 1TB drive I provided. Knowing, deep down in my heart, that I’d never see the old iMac run properly again, I purchased a new one to take home. Like all Apple products, it wasn’t cheap, but it’s really nice and I’m used to it. So there.

Anyway, once home I extracted the new iMac from its box, found the new keyboard and mouse, got new batteries for both and proceeded to get it all set up. The first problem I encountered was with the keyboard. It’s wireless, but there’s no place to put the batteries. As a matter of fact, the HDD is about half as thick as a AA battery and just a little thinner than a AAA battery. Discovering this prompted me to turn the mouse upside down, which I did, and noticed right away that there isn’t a battery cover on it, either. A mystery, but quickly solved when I noticed the Lightening port which indicated I was dealing with a futuristic mouse like the ones the aliens use. A more thorough investigation of the keyboard revealed the same port on it. That would, I surmised,explain the presence of the brand new lightening cable that was packaged with the keyboard and mouse.

Setting those two items in front of the new iMac I turned on the power, trusting that the keyboard and mouse were truly already paid like the instructions said. They were and things worked just great. All that’s missing is all the data I had on the old iMac. It’s gone into the ozone, headed for a fiery demise on a journey to nowhere. Sad. I had 42,000+ photos on that computer, as well as about a ton of documents, that I’ll never see again. Thankfully, I uploaded all the photos to my iCloud server a couple of weeks ago, but just hadn’t made it to uploading the documents. I know, however, that those documents are lurking around here somewhere on a wayward thumb drive, or on the My Cloud drive I used to use for backing up the old iMac. Regarding the latter … it quit backing up recently and apparently convinced this 4TB drive that there wasn’t anything on it. I know that’s a lie but I can’t yet prove it because of login issues. Yes, I’m having those. Something about not knowing the password. That information, of course, was on the old iMac.

Now I’m sitting at this new computer that’s really, really fast … mainly because there’s really nothing on it. Yet. I do have it hooked to my iCloud, wherever that is, and you’ll all be happy to know I can see all those photos. They are safe. The really big item I’m missing is the spreadsheet I made using Excel that provides all the details I need to be debt free in three years. It took a while to make it because it has a bunch of formulas in it that I’ve added over time. If I can’t recreate this thing then I’ll never get out of debt.

I was going somewhere more interesting at the start of this but it’s gone, now. So, I’ll stay with the computer for a while.

Diane took me to Portland yesterday to give up the old iMac for the work described, and on the way home we were stranded on Highway 30 for a couple of hours to accommodate the actions of an idiot driver who thought it would be OK to pass a bunch of people in the center median – a big no-no. When trying to regain the lane he apparently hit a van and caused it to flip over. For those of you familiar with Highway 30 this happened near the weigh station. We learned today that no one was injured in the accident except for the hundreds and hundreds of motorists trapped in the requisite traffic jam going both ways for miles. Nifty. Thankfully, both Diane and I are retired, and it was a bright sunny day, so we just relaxed and enjoyed the view, one of which was a flock of geese that landed in the overflow lakes from the Willamette Slough. We watched them paddling north, our direction, and we couldn’t keep up. It was OK. We finally made it through and made it home. The dogs were glad, but they’re glad to see us when we come back after a 3 minute walk to get the mail. It’s like they thought we’d be gone forever.

This morning the Geek Guys called to report that they were unable to extract any data from the iMac because it looked like it had recently been restored. I’m pretty sure that’s something I did while fiddling around trying to figure it out on my own. That’s what I get for thinking I know stuff, ya know?

After absorbing this information we made another trip to Portland to retrieve the failed unit and get the $80 refund for the fee charged to transfer data to the new HDD I mentioned earlier. That drive, by the way, is really tiny and it hardly weighs anything. But, it’s got enough room to make continuous back ups on this new iMac. It’s amazing.

Going back to last week, there’s more fun stuff that happened. The 37th Annual Quilt Show was hosted at Bethany by the WELCA ladies. It’s quite an event and this year was the best in many years. Here’s what our humble little church looked like for last Friday and Saturday …

These photos were taken before the doors opened to the hoards waiting for access. Sadly, I wasn’t around to get photos of those folks. I think I was home sleeping. No! I was home trying to get that iMac to work. That’s it!

This is Angela and Diane (my 1st wife) working hard to wrap things up so the drawing for the quilt winner could commence.

To end, here’s the BLT Diane made me for lunch yesterday. It was awesome.

Now I must quit because my eyes burn. A lot. I need eye dropsThe font size on the new iMac gets way smaller than the old one. Really, really tiny. I like it that way so I can get lots and lots of open windows in view.

Things & Stuff

Posted on February 7, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

Lots of Things and Stuff have happened and transpired over the last 10 days. Thankfully, Diane keeps good track of what’s going on by making sure everything is on our shared calendar. Even little things like “Jerrie take pills”. That’s an important one because, alas, I sometimes forget. I’m sure that’s a surprise to most of you, but I really do. Even when my overflowing pill case is sitting right in front of my keyboard all the time.

Using the calendar, I’m going to try something different and go in order. Doing that won’t, however, deter me from wandering off the beaten path once in a while to fill in where things need to be filled in.

First, Donna, Mother of Steffani, Wife of Jim, Husband of Bob, and Grandmother of Daniel, Tyler, and Maryssa, had a birthday on January 26th. I may have mentioned this before, but don’t feel like looking back in my posts. Jim thinks she only 58 but he’s like one of those records that keep skipping back, repeating the same verses over and over, and you have to bump it to make it continue. Since I’m not there to do that, he’s stuck on 58. I’m sure she’s at least 62 because I’m pretty sure she’s drawing Social Security now. This will be a shock to him, I’m sure, but he can take. Learning about that extra income will perk him up.

Reaching back into my ancient bag of IT tricks I was able to resurrect the Windows XP computer that belongs to my friend, Jeri. Now, getting an XP computer to function isn’t really as difficult as you might think because it is, after all, just a silly computer. The difference is that it hasn’t received any updates from Microsoft for a few years, and internet security has been absent for nearly as long. That would make one who does online finances a little jittery which is why I was summoned. It’s tax time, you know. Well, it’s almost tax time. That will be on April 17th this year since Jim’s birthday in on Saturday. He was born on the normal tax day. That’s April 15th, in case you were wondering. Jim will be 80 on that day. OK, now I’m feeling old …

Getting that old computer to respond was awesome and I left feeling pretty good about myself. Not bad for an IT guy who was dubbed “Mr. 286” at the peak of his career.

Next we have the Bethany Lutheran Church Annual Meeting. That happens once a year. That’s why I added “Annual” in there. This is the meeting where our Church Council, and Cemetery Board reveal all the secret stuff about their respective areas of church activity that they’ve kept secret all year. It’s all the time when new council members are elected. I may have mentioned in previous posts that I’ve served on the council for many years – about 15 I think – and have only been absent for one year. Sadly, that made me eligible to be nominated for another turn at the oars. Like normal, I accepted, as did Nancy, Shawn, and Randy. Nancy has been absent from council for a number of years, but Shawn and Randy have never served. So, we have new blood to spill. Our first meeting is February 15th. Until then I really have nothing worthy to say about this recurring aspect of my life.

I made a trip to the ENT Clinic at Good Sam Hospital in Portland and was quickly referred to the Vestibular Clinic to see what makes Jerrie almost fall down sometimes. Hopefully it’s not a vestibular schwannoma. That would be terrible. I think. I’m curious to find out. I was told the first visit will last 2.5 hours. Part of that time, I suspect, will be helping me off the floor while doing some of those fast turn exercises that led me to this point in the first place. That, and running into an occasional wall. Nothing major, just little mishaps that do not cause severe injury. Just a few nicks and dings that are quickly forgotten.

Then I went to OHSU (Oregon Health & Science University) which is located on Pill Hill next to the VA Medical Center and Doernbecher Children’s’ Hospital. Actually, Doernbecher is a OHSU facility. It’s complicated. Here’s what the entire mess looks like from a helicopter.

If you don’t have a helicopter, you can take the tram that launches from the banks of the Willamette River. The tram looks like fun to me, but Diane won’t ride it.

Our trip to OHSU was to, once again, participate in an intake process for a Diabetes Study for folks who are taking Metformin and whose A1C is above 6.8. I qualified because I take metformin and my last A1C was 7.4. So, I was looking at getting $10 a visit for the next 4 years. At the appointment I went through all the paperwork with Trish then she took some blood away from me while Brianna watched. Then I was released with the promise of a phone call the next day. Brianna called, as promised, and told me I didn’t qualify for the program because my A1C has mysteriously dropped to 6.2. This happened the last time I was interviewed for this program. So, I was out before I even got started and I had plans for that $10.

With that out of the way, I assisted Diane with some chores at our church to prepare it for their 37th Annual Quilt Show. That’s when all of the pews in the church are draped with elaborate quilts from all over the area as well as some antique quilts that have been in use for many, many years. It’s quit impressive and very beautiful. My job for this effort was to clean up the spots in the carpet where people always drop drips of wine with we have communion via intinction. We tell them to put their hand under the dipped wafer to avoid those drips, but not many listen. Thankfully I had a machine to help me and I’m happy to report that the carpet looks wonderful and will remain that way until we have communion again. The quilt show, in case you’re wondering, will be this coming Friday and Saturday, February 10-11, from 10am to 3pm both days. Downstairs there will be other displays, a bake sale, and sandwiches – egg salad and chicken salad. And pie. Lots of pies. Come and eat. It’s all good and it’s free unless you feel like donating to the jar located on each table. Donating is encouraged.

Another part I did was take photos of the Bethany Quilt Ladies who meet each Thursday morning and generally sit around drinking coffee and visiting, unless someone shows up, then they look busy. I don’t know how they do it, but they still manage to complete about 100 quilts for Lutheran World Relief every year. That’s amazing. This is, Right to Left, Vi, Pat, June, and some lady I’ve never met. Probably should have asked her name, huh? Diane said she is June’s niece.

One of those days I got another haircut. That’s two I’ve had in the last few weeks. It wasn’t so much that I needed one, but the barber, some of our Grandchildren’s Aunt, came to the house and I just couldn’t resist. Diane got a haircut, too. She looks great with her new do, like always.

Jeran went on a bona fide date last weekend to attend the Winter Ball. It’s mainly for Juniors at school so Lydia, a senior, help organize it. While we were at Diane’s Mom’s, Jean’s, house the group came by for a photo-op. Included was the Prince – not a Princess – which was a first for St. Helens High. A great group of kids on the way to having fun.

Jeran, Danielle, Lydia, Julianna, and Fiona.

That brings us to yesterday when I escorted my adopted Grandson, Ahmed, to our Lions meeting where he gave an incredible presentation about Pakistan, his home country. He’s really good at it. I call him my Grandson because he calls me Grandpa. It works. He’s living with Dan, Jennie, Lydia, and Jeran while attending St. Helens High School this year as an AFS student. His adopted parents, and sister, also attended the presentation. Jeran stayed home and ate spaghetti.

Another highlite from last week is that Lydia was one of the three students selected as Student of the week at the High School. The other two were boys. She was the best looking one in the crowd.

Sadly, I failed to get photos of Ahmed’s presentation so the day ended in failure but this is what he looked like from the back … on the left …

… and from the front … on the right …

The other people in there you already know.

Diane was summoned to the Court House again this morning. She wasn’t there very long before they released her into my custody so now I must regroup and work on being responsible.

A Lesson in Spatial Awareness

Posted on January 26, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

In case you’ve been looking for me, I apologize for not keeping things up to date. I’ve been in a coma.

It happened a couple of days ago when I was working in the basement on a cabinet that Diane requested I build to put above the refrigerator. There was one there before, the there was a tiny refrigerator under it so it fit nice. The refrigerator Diane wanted was much taller so the cabinet had to go. It’s been gone for 9 years and she wants it replaced. With something. With anything, actually.

So, we bought a door at the Restore Store that had glass in it and was just 3 inches shy of being wide enough and was spot on for the height. My task was to build a box on which to mount the door so it could be nailed to the wall.

While working up to this project things were getting shoved around in the shop and the new door fell over, breaking the glass. Thankfully, the Restore Store actually had two of the doors so I rushed right over and forked over another $2.75 for the second one.

Having both doors created an interesting situation because of the shape – one side was curved but the other one was square. Not curved on the outside, but curved on the inside in front of the glass. Diane asked if I could make both ends the same so I investigated the joinery and decided I actually could.

First thing I did was cut the straight section out of one door and the curved section out of the other one. I knew I could do it because the wood was not joined like normal cabinet doors, but with dowels. The goal was to make both ends square. It turned out to be a very simple process. I rejoined the severed pieces using a biscuit because they are move forgiving than dowels so I was able to line the pieces up just exactly right. If I remember, I’ll take a photo and show you.

After the door was glued up and started looking for 1/4″ plywood for the box I was going to make and discovered that it’s one items I didn’t have much of. While in the process of searching all the locations where I store wood, I found something that seemed like it would do the trick As luck would have it I had to bend over to extract it from the wood pieces that were trapping it against the wall where it was leaning. When I finally got it out I turned to my left and didn’t wake up until this morning.

I don’t recall what time of day it happened, but Diane said she got worried about me when I didn’t respond to her announcement that dinner was ready. Food gets my attention and I normally respond right away. She said she decided I was too busy to be bothered with food and went ahead and ate her portion while it was warm. I don’t blame her and probably would have done the same thing.

After eating, she said she went downstairs to see what I was up to and found me laying on the floor, blocking her path to her Girl Room. She noticed the dent in my head right away and dialed 911 for help. While waiting for the EMTs to arrive she said she moved me around a bit and discovered a small pool of blood under my head but, since head wounds typically bleed profusely, the small amount she found mad her think the injury probably wasn’t as bad as she first thought.

The EMTs confirmed her suspicion and she said they just shook me until I woke up. They said that was the best thing to do in a situation like this because giving any kind of stimulant could mask other injuries. A stimulant might also create a situation where the bleeding wound may increase in volume which was a bad thing.

I opened my eyes eventually, so it apparently works. Finally, she saw my eyes were open and quit shaking, loaded me up, and transported me to Portland for further review. I don’t remember any of this, of course. The doctors told me about it the next morning after taking some pictures of my head, looking into my eyes with those incredibly bright tactical flashlights, and conferring clandestinely in corners. Since they couldn’t find anything wrong mechanically, and I was responding to all their questions in a seemingly rational manner, they were on the verge of turning me loose. Then the hospital administrator rushed in and told the attending doctor that he was behind on his admission quota and admitting me for one more night would put him just over the line, salvaging the bonus he was counting on his new Mercedes.

So, they put me in a medically induced coma and told Diane that she should go home and come back the next day.

This morning they pulled out the IV, gave me back my blood-stained clothes and said I was free to go. Not knowing what else to do, I went to the waiting room, and there was my Bride. She gathered me into her arms and pampered me briefly as she asked me what it was I’d done. Not knowing, I couldn’t answer so she thought I couldn’t talk and started yelling for the doctor to explain why I was in the waiting room. Finding my voice, I explained that they said I was fine and could go home. So, home we went.

When we got home the first thing I did was eat the dinner that was still sitting in the microwave, keeping warm. After not eating for about 35 hours, I was hungry. Putting you in a coma does not stop you from getting hungry. It’s a myth.

Then I went downstairs to see if I could figure out what happened. Turns out the cabinet I removed from above that little refrigerator is the one I hung on my shop wall and is currently used to stow my routers. When I turned after the wood discovery, the side of my head ran smack into the sharpest corner on that cabinet, puncturing my head about 1/4″ deep, and causing considerable bleeding from the new hole about two inches above my left ear.

It’s 10:30 pm now and, except for a brief nap this afternoon, I’ve been awake for a long time. I’m tired, and I’m going to bed. First, I’ll admit that I embellished the events surrounding my injury just a bit but what you just read has to be far more entertaining than hearing that, because I wasn’t spatially aware of my surroundings, I whacked my head on a cabinet and it bled a little bit. Right?

Diane gave me ice and a sandwich and everything was good. There were no EMTs.

My Brain

Posted on January 23, 2017 by Jerrie Cate

I guess it’s time to come clean with the results of the CT Scan of my head. That was administered at 0945 on Friday the 13th. It took us an hour to drive to the hospital and took about 2 minutes for the tech to do the test. That meant we had lots of time to do ‘stuff’ in Portland. First up was breakfast at Elmer’s Pancake House. From there I don’t remember what we did. Shopped, I think.

Apparently that short CT scan worked because my doctor left a message on our home phone at 1110 requesting that I call so she could talk with me about what the scan revealed. Since we were roaming around Portland I didn’t listen to the message until we got home, after the doc’s office was closed. Then I had to wait until Monday because I didn’t want to talk with the office’s answering service over the weekend.

I have to say that I was a little concerned hearing from the doctor so soon after completing the test, and that allowed my little brain to go through all kinds of gyrations and permutations about the possible results. Seeing all that going on im my infected head put me into overdrive which just made it worse.

So, I had Diane take me to town and drop me off at the Pastime Tavern and told her I’d have the bartender call her if I didn’t think I could walk home. She was happy that I didn’t just take the truck, like I’ve done many times in the past. I quit doing that when they moved the jail from the old court-house to the Sheriff’s Office on Old Portland Road. The old location was better because it wasn’t such a far walk for her to come bail me out. So, she dropped me off and I’m sure she was hoping I’d just forget our home phone number. But, I fooled her because a long time ago I had the number tattooed just above my left knee so I can read it when I’m sitting in the bathroom.

The evening of Friday the 13th, however, didn’t result in an arrest. Nope. I just sat around talking with people, drinking beer, playing pool, and pushing away all the touchy-feely women who seemed to think they could make it all better. Well, I’m here to tell you that I don’t put up with that kind of undisciplined behavior and I told them so. The fellows to whom I was kabitzing thought for sure that CT Scan was going to turn up something really terrible because at least 4 of the hand on ladies were easily 2BB’s. That’s code for 2 Beer Beauty. It means that after only 2 beers she’s a keeper. Normally it takes 7 or 8. So I’m told.

Anyway, after talking with the guys for a while I just decided to walk home and save Diane another trip. I’m that kind of guy, always looking for ways to make things easier for my one and only Love. Yes sir. I’m that guy.

On the way home I stopped by Diane’s Mom’s (Jean’s) house to use the bathroom but it was late and she wasn’t up. Fortunately, her property borders Milton Creek and it’s dark back there so I decided to take advantage. I didn’t have a choice, really, because Mom’s house is about halfway between the Pastime and Home.

The creek was rolling along nicely, and lots higher than normal with all the melting snow and rain, so I was very careful when I approached the water and made my way to a flat cemented area. I went there because I figured the rocks along there would be slippery and I’d no doubt wind up falling into the water.

Falling in wouldn’t really be a problem because the creek really isn’t very deep. It was, however, flowing very fast so dealing with the current would have been a challenge I didn’t want to face. That, and I really didn’t want to get wet.

As I was relieving myself the lights went on in the house directly across from where I was exposing myself. Before I could put myself back together I saw this bright flash that caused me to lose my place in space. The result, of course, was that I fell in the water and was swept away on a fairly long winding journey to the Columbia River.

I did everything I could to stop my forward motion but nothing I grabbed would hold me. I just managed to rip things from the banks as I swirled and swiveled downstream. Giving up isn’t normally my nature, but I decided to just relax and enjoy the ride even though it was dark and I couldn’t see much. That really didn’t matter, though, because most of my relaxing was staying afloat so I could continue breathing. I’m a fairly good swimmer so it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. At this point, I have to admit, that it really scared me when I fell and I’m sure I wet my pants. By the time I made that realization, it was a moot point because I was wet all over.

After rushing downstream for 15-20 minutes, it kind of got to be routine so I was pretty sure I would make it to the Columbia, and calmer water in pretty good shape. I got so relaxed with all the bumping and such, that I pulled my iPhone 7 out of my hip pocket. I was surprised that it was still there, to be honest, and I was very happy to discover that it really is water proof. I turned it on and checked my email as I glided under Highway 30. Then I opened bejeweled which really relaxes me more. Currently I’m on level 221 and I have 6,055,170 points. That’s an absolute truthism.

Finally, just as I finished another level, the current took a brief turn for the worse as it intersected with the Columbia, and I made an abrupt left turn towards Astoria, 62 miles away. I closed up my phone and returned it to my hip pocket and planned my escape from the river at the St. Helens Marina down by the Old Court House, where the jail used to be.

Staying afloat on my back, to conserve energy, I made paddling motions that would aim me for the docks. Knowing that the current could easily suck me under the pilings, I remained very alert as I approached the first dock, but got sucked under it anyway. Luckily, that put me into calmer water, but I still banged my head on one of the boats that always seem to be parked there. By the time I came to my senses I’d been sucked under all the docks, and 11 of the 13 houseboats that populate the marina. At the 12th houseboat I became entangled in a net that halted my progress downstream.

Getting out of the water in that flimsy net was a real chore and I know I was making a horrible racket. My thought was that perhaps someone would hear me and come to my aid. They eventually did, but only after I made it all the way onto the deck of the houseboat.

The owner finally came out to see what was going on, saw me, and went right back inside to get his gun while I just lay there trying to catch my breath. I was pretty tuckered out so I wasn’t too concerned about the gun.

Standing there, pointing his pistol at me, the owner looked around and discovered the net that had saved my life. His eyes went wide and he yelled at me, “You ruint mah net!” which, in fact, I had so I didn’t argue. I figured the manner of his speech and his excited manner didn’t have room for me to try to explain just exactly why I was laying there on his deck. Next he got his phone and called the police to report me as trespasser which is a terrible crime in St. Helens. At one point, while talking to them, he covered the the microphone portion of his phone, leaned toward me and said, “What’s yer name?” I promptly said, “My name is Doug O’Peal, but you can call me Jerrie.”

“How the hell do you get ‘Jerrie’ out of Doug O’Peal?” he bellowed in a questioning manner.

“It’s my mother’s maiden name,” I replied, calmly.

“Your mother’s maiden name was ‘Jerrie’?” he asked, with his eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“What’s her first name?”

“Diane.”

“Diane Jerrie?”

“Yes.”

The conversation, such as it was, deteriorated from there until, finally, the police arrived to find us verbally engaged with the guy still holding his thumb over the phone’s microphone. I guess he forget he was on the phone with the police. They weren’t happy about it, either, because they came in full tacitical assault mode, not knowing what to expect. Lots of flashlights and yelling people. Soon the contents of all 13 boathouses were standing on the walkway connecting all the houses to the shore and it quickly devolved into a party.

Five of the guys got out their guitars, a little blond highschool girl dragged out a complete set of drums, and one of the wives just happened to have a huge bass fiddle. The hoedown was on.

While that was going on I told my story to the police and it was evident they didn’t believe much of it because, I had to admit, it was a bit far fetched. So, just to make it easy on themselves, they cuffed me and hauled me away for trespassing, and for ruining this guys illegal gill net. After depositing me at the jail I have no doubt they returned to the marina to participate in the party.

Jail was no fun at all. I never is no matter how many times you wind up there. It always sucks. The only really good things about it were I got to take off all my wet clothes, I discovered that I didn’t have any contraband stuffed in my butt, and I got a nice set of clean orange overalls and a pair of socks.

I’m just gonna skip to the chase right here and get to the really bad part of the evening. That’s when I had to call Diane and ask her to please come bail me out again. She wasn’t really surprised but I was surprised when she agreed without any negotiating at all.

After all the paperwork was done, I was released into Diane’s custody. They let her keep the handcuffs and she made me wear them the rest of the night, chained to my table saw in the basement. It was not a good night.

I made it through to Monday, chained to that saw, and she finally let me loose to use the bathroom and to call my doctor about that CT Scan. Instead of talking with the doctor, they made me an appointment for Wednesday the 18th at 0725 in the morning. So I waited. Patiently.

On Wednesday, at 0725 in the morning, I was at the office and talking with the doctor. She’s really great, and I like her, so of course she’s moving to another state to practice medicine and I have to find another primary care. But, that’s not important here. She told me that they didn’t find anything catastrophic on the scan, but they did find some (insert really complicated Doctor Words here) that are common in people my age. She converted the doctor words into something I could understand. Apparently I got many small areas of dead blood vessels in my brain, none of which indicate that I’ve had a stroke, or that I’m failing due to alzheimer’s disease. I just have little shrivled up veins that aren’t a concern.

Really? Dead blood vessels in my head and I shouldn’t worry? Well, OK. I won’t worry. What’s the point? It is what it is and the only downside, apparently, is that the areas damaged in my brain are important to those who don’t wish to be injured. That’s just a guess, of course. I definitely have the injury problem but I think it’s in my genes, not because of some little dead blood vessels.

So, there you have it. My brain is fried.

I’m sure no one is surprised.

Cheers.

OH – PS – none of the foregoing is true except for the doctor’s analysis.