Author Archives: Jerrie Cate

Does your vote count? – Shipmate Cedric – EOU Softball

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It’s Tuesday, May 17th. That means its primary day and if you don’t get your ballots in before midnight, or thereabouts, your vote won’t count. Actually, it probably won’t count anyway since most of the other states have already made the decision for us. That’s emphasized by Hillary not even bothering to visit Oregon, something she did for most of the other states during their primary vote which means she’s just going to concede us to Bernie because I suspect she figures she just doesn’t need our support. Either that, or she doesn’t feel that she’s going to get our support, so why bother. Just an opinion. I could be totally wrong about that as I have been about far less import events in the past. No doubt this up and down trend will continue till I suck my last breath.

To aid in this voting effort, Diane is spending all day today, and won’t be home until the wee hours of the morning, counting ballots, helping to ensure everything is on the up and up. She does this every year and it wears her out, totally, every time. But, hey, they pay her $9 and hour for all that work so why not? Might get enough for a full tank of gas. We’ll see.

Me? I spent the day in self-imposed isolation, kind of, by mowing our entire yard. It looks right nice. Thankfully it dried out quickly from the last rain. I was unnecessarily concerned. After that I had time to take a shower then pick up Cedric for his meeting with the Navy recruiter. He does this, along with other Delayed Entry Program enlistees, on a regular basis while waiting for his trip to boot camp. Cedric will be going in mid July. I don’t know about the others.

Considering what happened last week (that trip to the emergency room?) you’d wonder why I would be left all alone with instructions to not use any dangerous tools (scissors are now on the list), but I was allowed to drive Cedric to Hillsboro. Kind of inverted logic, I think? But, it worked out OK and I’m home safe, as is Cedric. I guess the thought was I’d be safer in the truck going 55 than I would be going up or down stairs at home, in case I had another “near” Syncope event. A purely Syncope event is when you actually faint. I didn’t do that, but it was close. I think things like that happen so that you are unconscious when you hit the ground. I’d think that would hurt a lot less than being awake for the entire event. I’ve not had a recurrence but I’m still scheduled to see my cardiologist on June 14th. I’ll let you know how that goes whether or not you’re interested.

Eastern Oregon University (EOU) softball made it to post-season play this year for the first time since 2000. I know that’s true because I looked it up. I looked it up because I figured someone might ask if that’s true. Well, it is. As far as I can tell. My interest in EOU softball is because Diane and I have matching EOU cushions, and I have both an EOU shirt and hat. We have those because we cashed in on a prime opportunity to get stupendous bargains at the EOU book store as they closed out their stock last year. We were there to watch our Niece-niece Maryssa play for the EOU team. She’s a sophomore there now. On May 8th she knocked in the winning run that earned her team their first conference title in school history. Impressive.

 I guess I’ll wrap this up and watch a couple of movies while I wait for Diane to get home. She’ll be upset that I stayed up waiting for her, but that’s OK. I just need to know she’s home safe. I could go to bed, I suppose, because the dogs will alert me to her arrival, but I’d rather see if I can stay awake. It’s only fair.

Later …

Sheetrock, Urgent Care, Family, & Fun

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As some of you already know, thanks to my first wife posting on Facebook, I had an adventurous Thursday. It all began at Jack’s house, where I was helping him put up sheet rock. It was only my second day on the job and I was just standing there, minding my own business when I had one of my tachycardia events. I’ve been having those things for years and find them to be non-threatening because they don’t hurt. My heart just flutters a little. They started while I was in the Navy and the doc then told me that I was having PVC’s, which everyone knows is plastic pipe used for in ground sprinklers and others tasks for moving water. That’s now. Back then there was no PVC piping so it was evident the doctor meant Premature Ventricular Contractions. I was told my PVC events were happening only every 5th beat of my heart and they only worry about it when it’s every 3rd beat. When they happen I feel like I’m raising up, like a floaty sensation. It’s brief, and a couple of deep breaths brings everything back to normal.

So, it’s nothing new. On Thursday, however, I think my PVC’s, which hadn’t happened for a long time, decided to catch up a little and hammered me with, maybe every other beat. It was amazing! For about 5 seconds, it felt like my heart was beating on the walls, trying escape, not that little flutter letting me know it was there. Plus, instead of the floaty feeling it was evident that I wasn’t going to maintain my current vertical position as my vision went dark and I started to fall. It was definitely as sinking feeling. Fortunately, there was a stool next to me and I was able to guide myself to a sitting position. As soon as I sat down everything went back to normal. Freaky!

We went back to work and hung another sheet of sheet rock before I could no longer disregard the analytics my mind was providing of possible side effects of what happened. Like a tingly sensation on the left side of my neck, and possible pain in my left arm pit. Stuff like that. The arm pain was difficult to analyze because of my torn rotator cuffs, so there was some discussion inside my head as to what was always there vs. what was new.

I decided that the only way to resolve the discussion was to take a trip to urgent care in St. Helens and see what they thought. Wynette wanted to drive me but I declined because I had my old truck at their house and was concerned about transportation back once I was done at urgent care.

Let me tell you, right now, that going to urgent care with my set of symptoms is the totally wrong thing to do. They took me into their care, getting me right in to a room, stuck a bunch of probes on my body, inserted an IV cath in my left arm, all the while scolding me for not calling 911 instead of driving all the way back to St. Helens from Scappoose which is 8 miles further away from the hospital they were going to send me to. Whew! It was all done in a nice, concerned way, but I got it from every one of them. I tried to explain that I’ve ALWAYS driven myself to Urgent Care in the past for mishaps and they said, “But those times you were bleeding, and we can fix that. We can’t fix hearts!”

Did I mention that they know me there?

So, as I lay on the gurney, waiting for the ambulance, I called the Columbia County Courthouse where Diane was due in court to face spousal abuse charges … that’s a lie. She was there working on the Counting Board for the elections. She does this for every election because they pay her $9 an hour. I tried her cell phone first, knowing she wouldn’t answer because she was working, then I called the County Clerk’s office and asked that they give Diane a message that I was at urgent care waiting to be transported to Emanuel Hospital. I was told to wait, and very soon thereafter Diane was on the phone so I could explain what was going on. I hated interrupting her at work because we can use the extra cash, but I really had no choice. If I had waited until I got to Emanuel it would have been far worse. Believe me. I know stuff like that.

Diane came to Urgent Care and watched Jim and Ken stuff me into the ambulance the drive away. It’ the first time I’ve ever been on an ambulance ride. Jim rode in back while Ken drove and we had a very nice visit on the trip to town. It was almost like we were just going shopping.

In no time at all, it seemed, we were there and my fantasy ride was over. One more thing to check off my bucket list. Jim and Ken placed me into the tender care of a bevy of bright and shiny nurses, PA’s, and a doctor to whom I individually related the story of what happened to me. I had to do this about 4 times and I was beginning to think it was a test to make sure I gave them the same info each time. It was ok, though, because everyone was extremely friendly and it was evident they liked their jobs and had my best interest at heart, no pun intended.

They sucked blood from my IV, sent me to have an X-ray, connected me to an EKG, gave me aspirin and water, made me just lay there while they bustled all around. They were busy all the time, and always smiling. I deemed it my job to ensure they continued to keep smiling. It’s what I do. I didn’t give them grief and did exactly everything I was told. I was a good patient. One of the RN’s, Michelle, told me I was the cleanest and best patient she’d had all day. Made me proud.

Diane was allowed back to sit with me as they worked so we had a chance to visit. She was worried, I know, and I was sorry for that. Jennifer, who was working in Hillsboro, at Nike, left early and showed up to be with me, also. Jeff would have also come, but I talked with him and eased his concern. He got the old truck home for me which was a huge help. I have a good family.

The process had already started to check enzymes in my blood that indicate heart damage and I’d need three of those, 6 hours apart. That meant the last test would be taken around 1 am the next morning. So, they decided that I should just spend the night for observation in one of their ER holding cells adjacent to the main ER area. It’s an observation area of individual small rooms that are nicer than some motels we’ve visited. Diane was initially going to try spending the night in the room’s recliner until it was decided that I wouldn’t be released until after 9 am in the morning. Jennifer was in the room with us and made sure I minded the nurses and doctors and not make a joke of my current situation. She said, “Dad, remember how old you are” more than once, as a way of saying I’m a bit more fragile than I used to be when I swung her in circles, and tossed her into the air.

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Yes, the old body is starting to fall apart, I fear, but it’s hard to not make it fun. It happens to us all and we only get to experience it once so why not enjoy it, if possible? I realize there are times when I should be serious, but I have this reputation to maintain, you know? I’m rarely serious about my predicaments.

Soon, I was alone in my holding cell. I had my iPad (thanks to my lovely bride), and a nice big TV on the wall, and a menu. Yes, a menu from which I was to select my dinner. That was an unexpected treat. I thought I would just get what I got and eat it or go hungry. Nope. I had a menu with a stunning array of heart healthy choices for dinner. I chose the rib eye steak, oven roasted potatoes, green beans, raspberry sorbet, orange juice, and a dinner salad. Yes, that’s all true. Here, let me show you.

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Pretty snazzy, huh? When the girl came to the door with it she knocked and said, “Room service.” Honest to God. Room service. And it was pretty awesome. I ate every bit of it and almost licked my plates.

Then I watched the Oklahoma Thunder beat San Antonio Spurs to move to the next round of the NBA playoffs. Regarding that, since the Golden State Warriors beat the Portland Trailblazers in 5 games, I’ll be cheering for them. Next round is Stephen Curry (GSW) against Russel Westbrook (OT). Should be fun.

After the game I settled down with my iPad. Thankfully it was charged all the way so figured it should last the night.

My nurse, Arlene, came in to tell me my first enzyme test was negative, which was a good thing. Then she took more blood for the next test. I read and dozed, gave blood and got good news on the last draw, and the cycle repeated throughout the night. Finally, at 0645 Friday morning Arlene told me the last test was also negative and suggested that I order breakfast, which I did. It was a breakfast sandwich of just egg and cheese. No meat. I only ate it down to the part where the eggs were green. I know it was still OK, that the green tinge was from cooking in an aluminum pan, but my head wouldn’t cooperate with my taste buds in the end so I left about half of it because I was suddenly no longer hungry. Then I napped some more.

Diane returned to get me about 0900, and they released me around 1030 with written instructions to not drive or operate dangerous equipment until a final determination could be made for why I had my event. They called it Syncope, or “Near Fainting Experience”. I looked it up. The fact that they actually had a name for it comforted me, knowing other folks do this, too.

Yesterday was Lydia’s last HS softball game for the year and I was happy to be there to cheer her on. She was the starting pitcher and blanked Rex Putman through 4 innings. It was 13-4 when she was relieved and assumed duties at third base. Her relief, Ciara, closed them out in the top of the 5th, and our girls scored in the bottom making it 14-4 and the end of the game using the 10 run rule. Jack and Wynette attended the game, too, so we got to visit and cheer the girls on. The fun continued after the game when we all adjourned Campbell Park and went to McCormick Park for the girls’ end of season party. That’s where the girls play a game against the parents and knock their socks off, until the pizza arrived. It was a lot of totally unorganized fun. Diane and I just sat and watched, enjoying the interactions.

Now I’m on another forced day of rest (Diane said) so mowing the lawn is not an option. I was going to do it yesterday but that was DEFINITELY not going to happen (Diane said). So, I’ll work on that bucket list and check of one more item – this was the first time I’ve ever spent the night in a hospital. It’s not a restful experience, but it was truly interesting to be involved as a participant in the ballet that is a top-notch emergency room. Very impressive stuff.

Thanks to all of you who expressed concern for my welfare. You can relax, now, as I’m about as good as I can get and I’m in pretty good shape for the shape I’m in.

Rabbits, Dogs, & the VA

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Tomorrow is garbage day. I know that’s true because today is Monday. Garbage day is always Tuesday. Even on holidays.

While Diane and her Mom were getting their Poodle-do’s this morning I took it upon myself to get the old truck going so I could drive to ACE for some of that RV sealant that comes on a roll. There’s a name for it but I have no idea what it is. It’s really sticky stuff and keeps water out of stuff. I needed it to put around the edges of the fan I put on the trailer. That’s probably all you need to know about that. The important thing about that evolution is that I didn’t fall off the top of the trailer even one time. The fan is properly installed. All I have to do now is figure out where I’m going to get power from for the fan. There are no wires near the hole it’s sitting in. I’ll figure it out.

After Diane brought her new hair-do home she took me to Portland for an appointment with my VA doctor. They said it was a recall but it was really just my six-month checkup. If it was a real recall they’d have to replace, or adjust something. That didn’t happen. All that happened was I was told that all the blood I donated last Friday indicated that I’m fine. My HDL is 135, LDL is 70, my A1C is 6.6. There were a bunch of other numbers on the list but I can’t remember them all.

Then we came back home so I could go tell our neighbors that our dogs apparently killed Cloud, their rabbit. That happened when I took them out front with me while I was working on top of the trailer. They went next door to visit the chickens and the rabbit, which they’ve done many times. This time something went wrong.

We have good neighbors. They took the loss well and said they’d tell their girls that Cloud ran away. I said I would get them more rabbits but they declined. They don’t want any more of them. I’m going to do it anyway. Maybe stuffed ones so if they escape the house and the dogs notice, they can be repaired.

I almost forgot that we stopped on the way home and I almost hit Beth Zelfer with my car door. (Hi, Beth) I did it on purpose because she was walking by, returning her cart to the rack. I knew it wouldn’t hit her, but it got her attention. It was really good to see her because it’s been a long time. She’s a Teacher in Scappoose. She’s actually a retired Teacher, but I think “once a teacher, always a Teacher.” Like, “once a Marine, always a Marine.” She was Derrick Anderson’s teacher in first grade, I think. You know Derrick. He’s a pro football quarterback for the Carolina Panthers. From Scappoose. Go figure.

Now I must contemplate tomorrow. I must play golf. It is a must. Doug said. Also, Stephen Curry beat the Blazers tonight in overtime. He scored 17 points in that 5 minute stretch. Now they go back to Oakland for game 5 where the Warriors will probably finish the Blazers of in round two.

Happy Mother’s Day & NAS Lemoore to Carlsbad, CA

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I have every confidence in the world that each and every one of you woke up this morning with your Mother on your mind. If you didn’t, shame on you. Please stop and, if possible, call her right now. I’ll wait.

***long pause***

Thank you.

My mother left us in 2001 but I still think of her every day. She is missed, and I’m sure she knows it.

We spent the morning at church, then joined four of the Walters clan for lunch at El Tapatio. I ordered the El Tapatio Burrito forgetting how huge that thing is. I did a pretty good job on it but had to take some home for tomorrow. Perhaps it will be photogenic when I dump it on a plate before putting it in the micro.

Here’s part of the church service …

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That’s our friend, Nancy. She was kind of laid back during the sermon.

After lunch we all came back to the house to visit until 2:30 pm. That was the time chosen to depart for the movie that Cedric was treating everyone to. What a guy. It was for his Mom, but I was invited, so I went. It was Captain America – Civil War. Diane and her Mom aren’t so much into those kind of action movies, but I really enjoyed it. Lots of fun.

Now we must leave Lemoore, in our minds. So, close your eyes and have someone read this to you.

I think we left Lemoore around 9:30 am which seems to be our new departure time. The GPS Lady reported that the drive to Carlsbad would take about 5 hours but I don’t think she took into account that we’d be moving through Los Angeles in mid afternoon. Perhaps she did consider that and considered it a push because, as everyone in the universe knows, traffic in Los Angeles is in rush hour mode all the time. It’s quite amazing, really. Normally accidents on I-5 through LA are non-injury because no one is going fast enough to do more that dent things up and make tempers flare more than usual. Fortunately, we didn’t witness any mishaps and made it to our destination unscathed. I believe our success on freeways is due to the fact that we just get in the right lane and stay our of the line of fire. It works well and we get where we’re going in plenty of time with little stress.

On a personal note, I’m the one who drove the LA segment of the trip and I did great! I’m taking credit for that “unscathed” part mentioned previously. Diane put her book down frequently, but remained calm which helped me maintain my composure. Every once in a while, when I was behind someone going the speed limit, she would say, “take him,” so I would. But I did it gently so I wouldn’t mess up the gas mileage too badly.

The Seapointe Resort is a nice place but the photos on their website depicting the facility are a bit misleading. If you check it out the one of the pool looking toward the ocean makes one think it’s right there. What you don’t see is the four lanes of Carlsbad Blvd you have to cross. After doing that, you must clamber down a cliff (I’m sure there are stairs along there somewhere) to the beach. An easier way would be to drive and park on a low spot in the Blvd that has immediate beach access.

We didn’t do that. Instead, we drove north to Oceanside to walk their board walk. It was very restful and allowed us to get our beach fix when needed.

One day we went looking for thrift stores and/or flea markets and found one on the main road just down the street. Upon entering we were convinced that it was run mainly by children of old hippies. They were having a fashion show that was pretty entertaining. The only thing I can remember us getting was a hat for me. It’s called a pub hat and I’ve never had one. What’s interesting is that it’s 55% hemp and 45% organic cotton. I’m not sure, but I think the “organic” part means the cotton was grown in dirt. The brand name is “Hempy’s” and it’s made in the USA. I figured it would be a good golf hat. It’s very comfortable.
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Mostly what we did was relax and read with no distractions. It was very nice, but a week was plenty long enough for us, then we headed back home. I won’t bore you with that part of our trip because it was pretty uneventful. Just lots of driving, something we also enjoy. We think the trip is sometimes better than the stay. It’s in our blood.

Once home my first priority was to get the lawn mowed as quickly as possible before it rained. While I was doing that out back, Diane worked on the wild parts out front. The below photo is a triangular spot, about 15 feet on a side. That’s Ziva peeking out of the jungle. She’s decided it’s kind of nice to just lay down in a bunch of foliage. Funny dog.
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Now it’s time to stop. Diane said. So, of course, I will.

Bye.

First, however, I just have to say that I think Dwayne Wade, of the Miami Heat, is a totally disrespectful idiot. That’s an opinion, but it’s supported by video evidence of him taking practice shots while a young girl sang  a beautiful rendition of the Canadian National Anthem. What a shmuck. Thankfully, the Toronto Raptors won the game and is up 3-1 in the series.

Baylee’s 7, NAS Lemoore, & Other Stuff

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Today our daughter, Jennifer, her daughter, Lydia, and Jeff’s daughter, Baylee, went shopping with my Mother-in-law’s daughter, Diane. That’s 4 generations of girls heading to the big city with credit cards. The occasion is Baylee’s yearly trip with the girls to celebrate her birthday which was last Saturday, while we were gone. It’s a “thing” Diane does with the girls and they seem to love it. Four generations of girls shopping, having a nice lunch, and just hanging out. You know. Sounds fun. I stayed home and mowed the lawn.

If I’m allowed to know what they did, after the fact, I’ll share.

Let’s see … NAS Lemoore … I believe that’s where I left off yesterday.

The drive south from Dunsmuir was uneventful and I really don’t have a lot to share. Diane drove the first two hours, I drove the next three, then she finished off with almost two more. Did you get that part where I drove three hours? Straight? All by myself? This is a new aspect to our traveling routine where I normally sit in the Navigator’s chair, and Diane drives. With a really good GPS system, being the Navigator means I must sit quietly when turns are coming up so Diane can hear the instruction provided by the GPS lady. We haven’t named her yet. That gives me plenty of time to read, which I do, and just look at stuff zooming by. Eventually the truck stops and I look up to see that we’ve arrived someplace. I admit that I actually know the destination because I’m the one who programs it. I have this handy app on my phone that allows me to send destinations to the vehicle’s navigation system.

On a side note, Diane’s truck gets pretty good gas mileage. On one 50 mile stretch it got almost 32 mpg. The overall average for the trip was almost 21 mpg. The old pickup gets about 9 mpg, all the time, so we are pleased.

The high temperature today was 86 degrees. Right now it’s only 85 so it must be cooling off for the evening. As a native Oregonian I have to say that 86 degrees is too hot. It would be OK if it rained and cooled things off a bit now and then but it doesn’t. It’s either hot like that, or wet. In between those two is horrendous humidity. Well, not horrendous really, but bad enough that I briefly thought it was.

Since I was all alone all day I had to make my own lunch so I heated up some green beans and what I’m pretty sure was some left over meat loaf. It was pretty good.

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I’ve whittled away the day by mowing the back yard, our neighbor’s back yard, and by cleaning up the fan I’m going to install in the trailer. The girls are home safely so I can put away my worries and watch the Blazers play Golden State.

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Dunsmuir & Non-USA Visitors

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Wow! It’s been eight days since I last made an attempt to communicate with you. You’d think my failure to do so would be because I have nothing interesting, or reasonable to share, but such is not the case. I’m gratified to know that during my absence many of you have visited the site pretty much every day and I was surprised to see that Brazil tops the list for non USA visits. Yes, there’s some little automatic counter on the web site that keeps track of visitors. Not who they are, but where they are from. It blows my mind that anyone reads the stuff I share, and it’s more mind-blowing (to me) that some people actually return to visit. The fact that folks from other countries drop by, more than once, is beyond belief.

So, thanks to folks in the following countries who spent a bit of their valuable time to drop by more than once: Brazil, Italy, India, Canada, United Kingdom, Australia, Colombia, Mexico, Indonesia, Turkey, Chile, Belgium, Germany, France, and Argentina.

Next time say “Hi”.

Now, what’s happened in the last 8 days? I believe I left you hanging with an offhand comment about “on our drive south”. One would think we were on a trip, or something. Well, that is truly the case. We drove to Southern California, Carlsbad, to be specific, because we recently heard that the San Andreas Fault is about to create havoc and break that part of California off into the Pacific Ocean. That’s not true, of course. We just go there once in a while so Diane can get her SoCal “fix”. It’s one of her favorite places in the world.

Our first night was spent in Dunsmuir, California which isn’t too far over the Oregon/California border. Just a little bit past the spot where the California Fruit Inspectors make all south bound travelers stop and lie about the fruit they aren’t supposed to have. We actually didn’t have to lie this time because we really didn’t have any in the truck. I don’t think.

Dunsmuir is a small town when viewed from the comfort of your vehicle as you fly by on the freeway. We’ve done that dozens of times of the years. Because of this Diane thought it might be interesting to see what lies beyond the visible layer we’re used to seeing. She booked a room at the Cedar Lodge Motel which, oddly enough, is part of that first, visible layer.

We arrived in the are in plenty of time to look around, so we did. It wasn’t our intention to do so immediately upon arrival, but a wrong 50/50 choice about which way to turn to get to the motel settled that for us. We went right at the first Dunsmuir exit, instead of left, and wound up driving down the left side of the freeway to the next exit, crossed the freeway, and drove back up the other side to our motel. Had we turned right instead, the motel is about two blocks down.

Once we got checked in, as the only occupants of the motel, we went down Dunsmuir Avenue in search of Yaks on the 5, the recommended place to eat. It’s a fancy hamburger joint that’s spendier that most, and better than rest, we were told. We can attest to that being an absolute truth, and worth every penny. The food is absolutely magnificent and we echo the recommendation.

On a sides note, I must admit that I once ate a yak burger and found it to be pretty good. It was in Washington state, not far from home. That doesn’t have anything to do with Yak’s on the 5, and they don’t serve yak meat. I don’t think. Perhaps they should.

We retired early so we could hit the road early the next morning. Next stop was NAS Lemoore, which is a little south of Fresno, CA. They have a very nice Navy Lodge that we’ve used previously that rivals any Hilton we’ve ever stayed in.

I’ll discuss the Dunsmuir to Lemoore leg of the trip tomorrow. If I remember. Perhaps my First Wife will remind me.

In addition to my foreign visitors, thanks, also, to all of you USA folks who account for thousands of visits to this site. I know you are probably related, or personal friends, and only visit to see what kind of stupid predicaments I’ve been in, or to find out which body part I’ve injured. I must admit that I, too, find that last part entertaining, a couple of days after the fact.

Who Are Those Old People?

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A couple of days ago, on our way south, Diane needed something that could only be obtained at a grocery store. So we pulled off the freeway and found one.

As we were walking up to the store Diane said, “Look at those old people walking toward us.”

I looked around to see who she was talking about but didn’t see anyone. Then she pointed out our reflections in the windows of the store. Once she brought it to my attention I immediately recognized the good-looking young lady but it took a beat or two to realize the old guy was me. That’s understandable, I think, because I’ve never really paid much attention to me walking toward me in a reflection.

I will pay more attention in the future.

Dunsmuir to Naval Air Station Lemoore

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The title is our current location, the one we attained on the long drive from Dunsmuir. Driving tasks were shared, which is new for our trips. We’ve established a new pattern where Diane starts us off, I drive the middle, and she ends it. Works just great. I drove for 2 hours and 4 minutes. She drove the other 5. Doesn’t seem fair, I know, but that’s way better than her driving all 7 of them, which she’s been known to do. It’s nice to know that she trusts me now.

While in Dunsmuir we had time to wander around a bit and learned that there’s way more to the place than the little bit one sees while flying by on the freeway. It’s an old town which we confirmed by visiting the local cemetery. We do that once in a while because we find it very interesting. I even took photos, like normal. The three headstones shown captured my interest the most. The first one because it’s a military stone commemorating a gentleman who was in the Indian Wars. Never seen one of those before. The older two were important to me because they were obviously hand-made and didn’t have dates. Just the names Pa and Ma Rafferty.

Then this church jumped up in front of us and demanded a photo of its own. Really nice stone work. Beautiful.

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One of the most anticipated portions of this trip was when we went by Shasta Lake. The last few times we’ve been this way, the lake has been nearly empty. We were happy to see that it was full, once again.

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I tried taking a photo when we crossed the bridge, but that didn’t work out very well. So, Diane drove down to the moorage on the other side, something we’ve never done before. It was good to see the recovery up close and personal.

Somewhere along the line, noonish I think, we stopped to eat brunch. I found a place using my iPad that looked promising and that’s where we went. It was a country-style place where everything is home-made on site. Nice. I think they shipped the eggs in from someplace because we couldn’t hear any chicken noises. Same for the bacon … no pig noises. There was, however, a cow out back. I think.

Anyway, we both had omelets and fried potatoes with non-noutrishonal white bread toast. It’s our favorite. While eating, Diane saw a guy digging around in the garbage for something to eat. Sitting there with a nice meal in front of us required that we take action. I went out and introduced myself and saw that he was articulate and didn’t appear to be incapacitated. I asked if I could buy him a meal and he said that would be great. I escorted him inside and turned him over to the hostess, then gave him $20 so he could get whatever he wanted. He chose to sit by himself and ordered a huge order of biscuits and gravy. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to bolt and spend the money on something less healthy, I left him alone. He said his name is John and he’s from Longview, Washington.

Figure the odds of that. We’re from St. Helens, Oregon, 800+ miles from home and John is from Longview which is only about 15 miles away from our home. Diane and I call these chance meetings “God Moments” because we feel we are led to moments in time where we have a chance to make a good decision. It’s gratifying to make the right one.

Getting John fed allowed me to return to Diane and enjoy my Denver omelet.

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And Diane got a good cup of coffee …

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Now we’re enjoying our stop at NAS Lemoore. When we arrived the fighter jets were landing and taking off, making lots of noise. That was going on when Diane called her Mom to relate our day. She had to stop a few times because she couldn’t hear and I asked if I should call the front desk and complain about the noise. She didn’t think it would be a good idea, considering where we were and all.

I could only agree. Then we ate soup and called it a night.

 

Carl The Waiter

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If you ever find yourself out near Mall 205 which is, oddly, next to I-205, and thoughts of Italian food tickle your taste buds, you might find it worth your time to stop at the Olive Garden. We did that last Friday after Lydia’s soft ball team waxed Rex Putman High School 16-0. It’s the first time they’ve beat them so it was a serious victory and we celebrated.

We also celebrated Diane’s and my 48th anniversary, and Daniel’s birthday (a little early). We all had excellent meals and it was topped off when our waiter, Carl, asked if he could sing us a song. Thinking it was going to be Happy Birthday, we said sure. To our surprise, and delight, Carl thought a bit, started snapping his fingers, and treated us, and everyone in our vicinity, with a stellar rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “You Make Me Feel So Young”. He was incredible and caused everyone around us to stop eating so they could just listen. This guy should be on Broadway.

So, if you go to this Olive Garden, ask to be seated in Carl’s serving area. It’s his full-time job. Why, with that talent, we don’t know. But he’s happy.

Ask him to sing a song.

 

Weather, Hewlett Packard, Politics, and Religion

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It’s Saturday and I’ve spent most of the day printing “stuff” while Diane actually worked. She’s the best. I would have helped her but misunderstood the instructions she gave me. There will be payback for that at some point in time and it will come as a surprise to me. That’s OK. Instead, my faithful HP Photosmart 7520 all-in-one printer got a serious workout.

Oregon spring weather is holding true to form … sunshine and rain at the same time quite often. Sometimes a downpour followed shortly by clear skies. Funny stuff. Soars to 88-90 for two days with nights down in the 50’s, then  65 for a week with nights into the 40’s. It’s the kind of weather that plays havoc with people who are prone to breathing issues.

Perhaps you’ve figured out that I don’t have much to write about. I could touch on politics, again, but that’s a broken record lately. The news is full of that topic. The one thing I will say is that it really doesn’t matter how any of us vote because those crafty “delegates” will have their way regardless of how a popular vote goes. That saying that “Your Vote Counts” is fiction. It really doesn’t. The vote go the way big money wants it to go. Simple as that.

That’s strictly my opinion, of course. That’s an admission that I may be wrong. But, I doubt it. That’s another opinion.

There’s always religion, the other forbidden topic of social conversation. Because of that, it’s naturally fun for me to talk about it, and share more of my opinions. Like, most religions preach Peace & Love. There are, of course, sects that do not preach P&L and we hear about them on the news all the time. Still, those that do promote P&L vastly outnumber those who don’t so why don’t we gang up on them and put an end to all the bickering and blood shed? Well, because all those different religions that preach the good news have their own belief system in how things show happen which are typically at odds with those who do things differently. So, there’s conflict within. That will only change when there’s just one religion in the world, and that’s just what every religion in the world believes … theirs is the best. That’s another opinion, if you’re counting.

I should probably stop, now, before I can’t get out of this hole.

I wish Peace & Love to each and every one of you, no matter how you praise your God, your Higher Power, or whatever.