Day 12 – The White House & the Holocaust Museum

Posted on October 2, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

Although we only visited two places today, it took a lot of time. We we’re on our feet far longer than they wanted us to be on them. Same for knees and hips.

We left our room around 8:30 am and drove directly to the Anacostia METRO station. It really is only 10 minutes away. The parking facility is enormous. So enormous, as a matter of fact, that we had to park twice. Diane parked the first time and I parked the second time. The second parking was to take advantage of the handicap parking spots that are free if you have the handy-dandy card to display. Diane brought hers, so we had it. Using it also got us much closer to the METRO entrance.

Down we went, into the deep dark tunnel …

… where we sought a seat in the crowded waiting area …

… until, finally, one of those 600 foot trains zoomed in for a landing. They come in so fast you wonder how they can possibly stop before reaching the end of the platform. But, they always do.

We boarded and set McPherson Square as our final stop. This required us to switch from the Green line to either the Blue, Orange, or Silver line. It wasn’t actually very difficult but we made it so. Turns out it’s really good to know which side of the track to wait on for the car you want. Thankfully, there are lots of folks around who can answer those questions. Everyone was very kind. It pays to have gray hair.

I was surprised to discover that the McPherson Square station disgorged passengers from beneath this well known facility.

Since we were early for our assigned tour time, we chose to find a likely place to get a bite to eat. Not knowing anything about the area I approached a heavily armed Secret Service agent standing guard by a door into the US Treasury Department and asked if he knew where my friend Jim O’Neal eats when he’s in DC. He said “Absolutely,” and pointed across the street at The Old Ebbitt Grill.

Here he is again, in case you missed him the first time.

We made our way across the street without mishap and joined the throngs of people attempting to gain entry. Surprisingly, since there were only the two of us, we were promptly seated and served. Diane suggest that we share a frittata and move along on down the road. It was a good choice. It was absolutely the best frittata I’ve ever had. It was also the only frittata I’ve ever had and it was delicious. I’m going to buy whatever kind of pan they used to make so I can do it at home. For some odd reason, I failed to take a photo of the food. I always take photos of the food. Except this time. Just trust me, it was really, really good. I’m sure Jim would agree.

From The Ebbitt we hoofed our way down to the spot where vetted tourist are allowed to enter the White House. Turns out there are hundreds of folks who get approved to visit the White House every day and they keep the Secret Service agents busy checking IDs against their lists.

That was the first check. There were two more before we were allowed into the White House area, then there we were.

This was Diane’s favorite. Mine, too, I must admit. It is most definitely a Green room unlike the Blue room …

… that is most definitely not Blue. But, it has a pretty light fixture.

The Red room was a close 2nd to the Green room.

The dining room. Nice table, but I think the room would better represent America if none of the chairs matched, don’t you?

The guys with guns wouldn’t let me go up those stairs.

Then, all the sudden, we were back out side in the misty, humid air.

As we departed down the driveway I spied this Secret Service agent conferring with another one. Having a bad ass like this on my side gives me goose bumps. He’s the only agent I saw that was dressed totally in black. All the others had white shirts under their vests. I figure this gentleman must be one of the stealth versions.

After walking a fair distance away from the White House, we chose to sit for a few minutes to admire the view. It’s really a nice one from this perspective. Then there comes the moment when you must look down, like all old people do, to make sure of your footing, that you don’t step in a hole, or a wobbly brick, and encounter this …

People are basically pigs, I believe. It’s beyond most of them to spend just a little bit of time to police the areas they inhabit, cleaning up the mess they made. We found this especially true when standing in the long line, waiting to gain entrance. I have to add, however, that we didn’t see very many garbage receptacles around town. But, that doesn’t excuse people from not caring enough to find one.

We’d heard on the news that there was a rat problem in the city and leaders were working on a solution to control them. Looks like something controlled this little guy. Had Diane not warned me, I’d have stepped right smack on him. It appears as though he’s been posed equidistant between the two grey bricks. This photo was taken as we stepped into Lafayette Park and both of us found it very interesting that no one found a need to pick remove it.

Perhaps one of these little guys is a serial rat killer

After conferring for a bit, limping on our tired old legs, and sore hips and knees, we decided to go visit the Holocaust Museum. This was one of the incredible views we encountered on the way.

If you haven’t visited the Holocaust Museum, you should. Especially those who are convinced that it never happened. It’s a very sad tribute to some very brave people who were victimized by a delusional world leader. Diane cried during most of our trip through the displays, and movies, but is glad she endured. There were many displays she couldn’t bring herself to view so we passed those by. It’s very graphic throughout and I didn’t take any photos of the displays. It just didn’t strike me as the right thing to do. I didn’t however, take some photos of the serene chapel at the end where people could reflect on what they’d seen in a very calm atmosphere. It was a good ending to a very sad story.

The sign on the wall outside the museum was a good reminder for those who entered.

When we finally rejoined the world it was late. We’d spent almost 3 hours in the museum. Thankfully, there were padded benches throughout where we could sit and rest a bit while trying to comprehend the atrocities that were on display all around us.

We decided to call it a day and head back to JBAB and our room. On the way we stopped at the base commissary so I could get an onion and another case of water. Water because we’d run out, an onion so I could make some proper tuna salad for our evening sandwich supper

By 8:30 pm we were both nodding off so doused the lights and called it a day. A good day. Tomorrow we’re just going to drive around looking at “stuff” and not use the METRO. Arlington Cemetery is high on the list.

Golf and Soccer

Posted on September 6, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

This morning I was once again forced to participate in a golf match with the Peal brothers, Junior & Doug. As some of you may know, when I began this association with them I was a neophyte golfer, calling anything under 70 for 9 holes a good day. And it was. Back then.

Now that we’re older apparently the competition has become more meaningful, or it’s easier to forget more of the bad shots I make, either of which could be responsible for me lowering my scores to the very low 50’s. Today I shot 53 which is really, really good for me. It would have been lower yet had I been able to make some pretty simple putts. One putt I made from about 10 feet out went into the middle of the cup, hit the plastic edge of the hole liner and bounced right back at me, landing about 4 inches from the hole. Remarkable. But, it was fun for all. Doug also had a 53 and Junior beat us both with a 52. In another couple of years I should be able to get my scores into the 40’s. Could be, too, that I’ll lose all my balls before that happens and I won’t have to worry about it.

After golf Doug brought me home. He agreed to do that because Jewel drove me to the course because I still need to put the windshield wipers on my old truck and it was raining. It rained on us most of the way around, but we didn’t care.

I quickly changed my clothes and jumped in the back seat of Diane’s truck and we headed for Dallas to watch Lydia play soccer. That’s Dallas, Oregon, not Texas. It’s near Salem, toward the Oregon coast.

The first half Lydia sat on the bench watching as the St. Helens defense floundered a little and went to the locker room down 2-1. Morgan, the first half goalie, didn’t get a lot of help from her team mates keeping the ball out of the net, and she made some really good stops. Lydia took over goalie duties in the second half and the girls’ offense kicked into gear for 3 more goals. The defense, aided by some pretty awesome saves by Lydia, held Dallas scoreless ending it with a 4-2 win for our girls. It was a really good 2-hour bus ride home for St. Helens I’m sure. They played very well as a team.

Now we’re home and it’s time for bed so I’m stopping.

G’nite.

Observations From The Road

Posted on August 28, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

The other day I noticed a Tesla Model S in the park and ride lot for the Columbia County Rider. Seemed a little odd to me that someone driving an electric vehicle would park it then jump on a gas guzzling bus. Could be, I suppose, they needed what charge they had remaining for their trip home after work.

Speaking of electric vehicles. Do you, like me, find it unfair that electric car drivers are provided premium parking places, with chargers, all over the place? Seems to me that we who can’t afford an electric car should be provided comparable parking spots with gas pumps.

Just sayin.

The Old Truck, Panzie, Bamboo, & Fire

Posted on August 17, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

Yesterday I tempted fate by driving the old, brakeless truck to visit Justin to see if he can fix what’s wrong. He’s a friend of Lydia’s and is a pretty good mechanic. So, having a vehicle that needs the attention of a mechanic on a regular basis, I feel it’s my duty to give him all the opportunities I can to further his education. The last time I used his services was to get the flex plate installed. Since he did that I’ve had no problem starting the truck, at all. That’s been many months ago. Haven’t had to charge the battery, either, probably because I replaced the belts allowing the engine to turn the alternator at a speed fast enough to generate enough electricity to replenish what was used to get the engine started. Whatever the reason, I’m a happy guy and will be until I find out what it’s going to cost me this time.

I didn’t work in the yard until this afternoon because we had to take Panzie to the doc for a scheduled appointment. She needed a shot and a checkup. She’s just fine for an old dog.

After we got her home, and past the welcoming committee who were happily yapping, I donned my work clothes and headed for the back yard. My goal was to install bamboo cross members between two 4 x 4 posts I had originally planned to use to support a door to no where. Just seemed like a good idea at the time. That was years ago, of course, because no way was Diane going to let me install a door between those posts. The door I had in mind was burned up years ago. So, I got out my handy-dandy hammer drill, the one that tried to kill me a few years ago, installed a spade bit, and gave it a test run. Then I measured six-inch increments up one post and used my level to add similar marks to the other post. My original plan was to drill holes completely through both posts then pull the home-grown bamboo through both posts. That didn’t work because the joints in the bamboo where branches were removed wouldn’t fit. Last night while I lay dreaming, the solution came to me. All I had to do was drill the holes on the insides of the posts, deeper on one side than the other, then cut the bamboo between the joints so they wouldn’t be a problem. When cut to the proper length, I pushed the bamboo in the deeper hole, then pushed it into the shallow hole on the other side. worked like a charm. So simple.

Then, after looking at it for a while, I thought it should have some vertical elements and started adding them. After I ran out of pieces that would bend around the horizontal members I just cut a small stalk, plucked all the leaves off it and stuck it on. Kinda weird, but Diane likes it. That’s the important part.

The trellis is going to be used for a clematis that will envelope the entire thing.

To end the day, I flattened out a spot that use to house a Rhododendron and built Diane a fire pit. She’s always wanted one of those. I just happened to have a bunch of big rocks lying around doing nothing which was handy.

Diane doesn’t think it’s an adequate fire pit. I thought it looked ok.

Now I’m clean and tired and the beeper just went off telling me the spaghetti is done, so I must terminate and ingest food.

Golf, Thermostats, and the Old Truck,

Posted on July 30, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

I had to go golfing again yesterday because I said I would. Diane thinks it’s OK that I golf a lot. I suspect she think by going more often I’ll get better at it. Boy do I have a surprise for her. Unlike most other sports, where that’s true, golf has its own rules when it comes to getting better. One day it’s good, the next day it’s bad. So it goes. The up side of golfing is that I generally get to drive the cart. That’s fun.

Daniel’s PT Cruiser started overheating on him so he brought it over to see if I could figure out why. After looking under the hood for a little while I decided that the thermostat had given up and crossed the bar. For those of you unfamiliar with crossing the bar, it’s a Navy term for “died”. When a friend passes, they’ve crossed the bar. I suppose that could be taken in a couple of ways because of the nature of sailors, like, it could be a statement that a sailor had crossed the bar when he was thrown over one during a fight in a foreign port. You know how those sailors drink, right? Well, you at least know how people THINK those sailors drink. Most commonly, however, crossing the bar simply refers to the point a ship is on its own after leaving port and the harbor pilot departs. Still, it’s a nice, symbolic, mental image for us old guys to consider as we progress toward the end of our lives. “Crossing the Bar” is also a poem.

Back to the PT …

Since neither Daniel nor I had ever changed the thermostat in a PT Cruiser, it was a journey of discovery for both of us. I have a perfectly good service manual in a readily accessible folder on my computer, but referring to it would have removed the mystery of our journey. Instead, we just studied the situation and started taking bolts off things to gain access to what we both determined to be the problem area. Turns out, it’s a complicated process because the turbo engine we were working on was most certainly built by very small people with very small hands. Consequently, gaining access to some bolts whose removal were critical to our endeavor, was problematic and resulted in the loss, forever, of two of them. Each of us lost one, and listened intently as they clattered their way into the tangle of wires and tubes, never to reach the ground. This, of course, required a trip to ACE for replacements. Thankfully, we were had retained possession of a nut of the right size that enabled Daniel to procure the necessary replacements. In the end, Daniel was able to get all the bolts back into place using a more careful approach, knowing that one little slip meant another trip to ACE as soon as all the replacement bolts and nuts were lost. Fortunately, none were lost. One of these days those lost bolts will secure their freedom on the highway and bounce along until they come to rest amidst the rocks and debris near the guard rail somewhere along Highway 30. A hitchhiker may find them and know exactly what they are for but more likely they will sit there for years, rusting, until finally they are once again one with the universe. Happens all the time.

During interludes while Daniel was shopping for parts, I worked on the Old Truck, replacing spark plug wires. I decided to do that when the engine started sounding a lot like a John Deere tractor. It was running on 6 or 7 cylinders because one wire was parted at the spark plug, and another was partially burned through as it rested peacefully on the incredibly hot exhaust manifold. It was time. Part of the process of preparing the wires was to attach the spark plug ends after making sure they were the right length. I didn’t both with cutting them because I didn’t want to. I just took one off, selected a new one that was close to the proper length, then put it all together. As a result, some wires are a bit long for the plug to which they are attached, but I remedied that by winding them around tubes and hoses in the engine compartment. None of them will be allowed to touch the exhaust manifold. They should last a long time. Cousin Don provided me with a handy tool to properly crimp the little metal clips on the wires and I’m thankful for that. Don is my favorite mechanic. He knows everything and has all the tools.

Diane told me there’s a cruise in at the Elks Club today. I might drive the old truck out there just for fun and look at all the nice cars.

Oh ya! Diane’s been bugging me for years about painting it so I began that process a few days ago when I came across an assortment of rattle cans in the basement. I decided to use what I have and see how it works out. The first can only lasted to cover the left front fender. It’s OSHA yellow, meant for hard hats, I believe. I have some green and red that I will try on other parts as time permits unless Diane hides them from me, or throws them away.

What do you think?

Yeah, I know. It needs another coat and I got some paint on the chrome, but it will come right off with the right chemicals. While I’m at it I may as well put the windshield wipers back on it so I can drive it in the rain, and maybe put the right side mirror back together – it fell apart and the mirror part is laying on the dash. When I want to use it, I just hold it and look behind me.

It’s only a little after 9 am and I hear Diane tiptoeing around so guess it’s time to get productive. First thing up is to print the church bulletin and the church’s August newsletter. That’s my job.

Later

Baylee’s 7, NAS Lemoore, & Other Stuff

Posted on May 7, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

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.

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.

It’s A Double Miracle !

Posted on March 31, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

Jennifer’s Daniel has a story to tell that will make you believe in miracles. Well, I’m going to tell it, not Daniel. He’s not here so it’s got to be me. It works best for me that way because with him in close proximity there’s always the danger that he’d want me to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. So, since I’m unsupervised I’ll just tell it like I remember.

Daniel is driving a 2003 PT Cruiser GT that has in excess of 170K miles on the speedo. During that time it’s had minor issues that were easily dealt with, making it a good commuter vehicle for him.

His commute includes windy, narrow, Cornelius Pass Road which always has wrecks on it. Missing them all is impossible. If you use that road on a regular basis you will eventually encounter a wreck, or be in a wreck. That’s just the way it works. Yesterday, though he neither encountered a wreck or got in one, he got a pretty good scare once all the possible horrible outcomes had been considered. The rest of the family was spared the bad news until it could be related as good news.

Amidst the teeming stream of vehicles rushing home from Portland to Scappoose and St. Helens, Daniel felt a shudder in the car that quickly became far more than a mere shudder. Fortunately he was able to get to the shoulder and out of harms way. Not knowing what was wrong, and wisely choosing not to attempt to drive it, he called me and I went to see how I could help. My initial feeling was that my AAA card was going to come in handy, and that turned out to be the case.

After calling for a tow we sat, talked, and listened to the radio for three hours before the truck showed up. During that time we were visited with one Oregon State Trooper and one Multnomah County Sheriff Deputy. The Trooper, seeing that we were OK, wished us well and left. The Deputy, however, put out some flares to warn drivers. It was pitch black dark where we were sitting so the flares were a great idea.

When the flares were placed the Deputy was walking back to his vehicle when a car whizzed by, well over the speed limit, with no attempt to move away from the parked vehicles. The Deputy said, “I’ll be right back,” then jumped in his vehicle and chased the guy down. It was a beautiful thing to see. True to his word, he was back in about 15 minutes, made sure we were still OK then went off into the night. Both of us were very happy about the visits from both the Trooper and Deputy.

We had the PT towed to my house so we could take a look to see what we could see before attempting to call the high-priced help. I got to bed around 12:30 am, way past my bed time.

This morning Daniel and I approached the PT with the intention of moving it into the driveway. Our attempt to push it was proving to be very difficult which caused us to look closer for the problem. This revealed to us the true nature of the miracle. The tie rod on the left front wheel broke allowing the left wheel to go its own way. Had this happened when Daniel was going down Cornelius Pass he would have surely left the road and plunged into the canyon because there’s no other place to go. The miracle is that it didn’t break then. It broke after he turned on to Highway 30 for the final phase of the commute.

A trip to the local O’Reilly Car Parts joint provided us with the second miracle when we discovered that the part we needed only cost $14.71. That’s what it cost to get it back on the road. Truly amazing, I’d say.

Other costs were time, effort, and extremely greasy hands. Considering the possibilities, the entire family was vastly relieved and none of us cared about that.

Daniel was safe. That’s what we cared about.

Now I can’t help but think about Jennifer because she drives those same roads on her commute, too. I may make myself crazy with all this unless I have everyone’s assurance that they’ll pray for all the commuters in the world no matter what roads they drive. That should cover all possibilities.

Thanks

The Best Neighbor Ever !!

Image | Posted on February 27, 2016 by Jerrie Cate

Diane’s Truck

Posted on October 14, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

After seven months of driving around in abject luxury in the form of a new Chevy Impala, we pulled the plug and traded it for the vehicle Diane really wanted all along.

Turns out the truck is more comfortable than the Impala. No doubt there will be more about this later.

Can’t wait to make my first dump run in it.

Spark Plugs & Mixers

Posted on September 7, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

PT Cruiser Turbo 2.4L mechanic – Engine light came on after the engine sputtered a couple of times. After a bit of internet searching I discovered that PTs have the ability to display error codes on the trip meter. There was only one (P0300) for multiple misfires. So, I got new plugs and wires and swapped them out. Two of the old plugs were so tight I’m guessing that whoever installed them used a torque wrench. The plug gap on all of them was worn beyond a .070 gap, much larger than the recommended .040. Total cost $45, mainly because I bought expensive plugs.

Once the parts were installed I have to discover how to clear the error code. That turned out to be very simple … just had to disconnect the battery for a little while and let the juice drain from the system.

Getting the PT back on-line was imperative because we have plans to drag it behind the old Winnebago to Ocean Shores, WA next weekend, then south to Cape Lookout State Park in Oregon for the following week. Ocean Shores will be fun because it’s the Rod Run To The End Of The World weekend sponsored by the Beach Barons.

As a way to test out the Winnebago, we drove it to church, together, to pick up some tables to use for Cedric’s graduation party last Saturday. It drove really nice and Diane only fainted once when we were on the back roads. She doesn’t like back roads because they’re narrow and she’s convinced I’m going to run the rig into a ditch. Thankfully, most of our planned trips will be on major roads so she will be able to relax a little. Regarding the reference above that we went together … that’s significant because until this point in time we’ve never traveled together because we had no way to tow a vehicle. So, Diane drove the car and I drove the motor home. Now we have a tow dolly for the PT so we can enjoy each others’ company during the trip.

Here’s what we’ll look like going down the road …

A few weeks ago Diane bought a Kitchen Aid Pro 6 mixer at an auction for $200. That’s a real deal for a $400-$500 unit, so I thought she did real good. When she got it home I plugged it in and discovered why it was sold. I worked, but it made a horrible grinding noise. So, I figured out how to dismantle the thing and discovered a couple of gears were destroyed. Another trip to the internet revealed many how-to videos of how to replace those specific gears and most of the videos were by women.

Having this information in hand, and knowing it was a simple process, all I had to do was find a source for the gears, which I did more quickly than I thought I would, and had them on the way lickity split.

While I waited for them to arrive, I removed all the old grease surrounding the remaining gears, and cleaned up all the surfaces to ensure no ground up gear pieces could find a way to destroy any of the other gears. When the parts arrived it was a simple matter of putting it all back together, and replacing the grease. I cheated a little here because I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to pay $15 for a small container of OEM grease. Instead, I just used what I had in my grease gun and called it good.

Once it was all back together it worked good as new. Now Diane and mix stuff twice as good as she could on the old mixer that went nuts, flipped itself on the floor and kind wrecked itself in general. It was a Kitchen Aid, too, but the smaller version.

I may have done some other stuff, but don’t remember what it might be. So, guess I’m done here.

Happy Labor Day – Stay Safe