Hi – I haven’t got much time, because they’re after me, again. Who knows how quickly they can home in on the “thing” they stuffed into my cranium.

We just returned from a four night stay at Big Eddy County Park, near Vernonia, Oregon. That’s bout 29 miles from where we live. But, it might as well be in another country because they don’t have cell phone, or TV covereage in the parking spot we were assigned. We considered moving the RV to a more agreeable spot, but the camp ground hosts, a couple of English Nazis, dictated our every move and disallowed the move. We were trapped. We also had to get our own wood, and they insisted that we take all of our trash to the large dumpsters by the showers, and not use the garbage cans scattered throuhgout the camp ground, so they wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of their 5th Wheel Fleetwood Castle. It was awful.

The entire campground was reserved, every space paid for either by attendees, or the Grace Baptist Church in Warren, OR. Did I say it was a Church Campout? Maybe not. Well, it was. The reason for securing the entire park was to ensure the numerous children in attendance could run freely without their parents fearing for their safety. Because of the children, those unknowns, who entered the campground area for any reason, were immediately identified and confronted to learn the reason for their presence. All the adult men, and I, noticed the strangers, and helped track them down. The camp hosts didn’t seem to give care who entered, invited or not, as long as they could remain in their castle, coming out only once a day to drive through the park, checking on who had violated their directive that only the large dumpsters were used. If any trash was found in the small scattered cans, it was dissected on the spot to determine who put it there. If no owner could be determined, responsibility fell on the closest camper to the offending garbage can. Fortunately, the on we used was closer to three other campers, and we ensured that we removed our names from anything we threw away. So, we got away clean, but it was a close call a couple of times.

OK – obviously that’s not all true, but part of it is. I’m just not sure which part.

While on this adventure, we had a campfire going the entire time. We sat around it every night telling lies to each other until the urge to sleep captured everyone’s attention, and folks drifted off.

The kids all had a ball, riding their bikes all over the place, playing in the Nehalem River, or just visiting and doing crafty things all day long. It was great. We took both Panzee and Ozzie on this trip and learned that Panzee is a really good camper. Leashes are required in the park, but neither of them need one because they stuck close to the camp. Ozzie actually spent a lot of his time in the RV, protecting it from anyone who might want to enter in an unauthorized manner. He was very good at that. And, it was his favorite place, unless it was a lap by the camp fire. He really liked that, but “feet on the ground” wasn’t his cup of tea.

Panzee was perfectly content to just sit by us and soak it all in. She’s a really good dog, and very intimidating to random visitors.

One of the big events was the construction of a very, very long water slide that terminated in a fairly large portable pool. Had the waterslide been constructed to utilize any portion of a downhill slope, folks may have actually made it all the way to the end. As it was, they kept making it shorter, and shorter, so participants could get a good run at it and still maintain a little speed when they collided with the side of the pool.

Lydia’s first attempt found her going feet first, unlike all the other participants. Still, they all had fun, got wet, and had a generous supply of soap applied to their bodies whether ornot they wanted it.

Since no one was making it all the way into the pool, Jeran decided it would probably be the safest place so propped himself on a tube to watch the festivities …

Others just sat and watched …

Just for edification, that’s Diane holding Ozzie, Panzee, Erin, Shawn, and Jennifer. It’s evident that enough was going on around them that not everyone had to look the same direction to enjoy the view.

Back at camp Jennifer broke out the giant marshmellows … the kind you can toast multiple times before it falls off the stick. For supper, Shawn’s Mom fried up a pound of turkey bacon for him and someone suggested that a bacon wrapped marshmellow might be really good. So, Shawn gave it a shot and determined that it was, indeed, quite tasty.

Others simply ate their marshmellows in the normal manner …

So ends my tale. This morning it all came to a end as we packed up for the arduous trip home. Arduous. It was less than 30 miles, but the road was bumpy, things were flying around in the motor home to the point where Ozzie took refuge in his kennel. Normally he sleeps on the motor cowling. He may have sat in the passenger seat, but Lydia was sitting there, accompanying me on the trip home.

Bottom line, we had a good time, and it was good to be home. Now I’m done.

Today I survived another “scrub-a-dub-dub” evolution to spiff up the house because our niece, Steffani, her Husband, Bob, and one of the fruits of their loins, Maryssa, are scheduled to appear this afternoon. They’re arriving from Idaho, fresh from the potato fields, so Maryssa can participate in a college recruitment event for softball. She’s really, really good at that. And, she’s a really nice person. This is Steffani, Bob, and Maryssa. The picture of Bob is also of Maryssa, but it’s the only one I could find … he’s sitting in the chair in the back ground. The other picture is Staffani’s dad, Jim, watching TV. I’ve shown you that one, before.

Back to house cleaning … I made a sincere attempt to convince Diane that it wasn’t necessary to expend all this energy cleaning the house for them because they aren’t really guests, they are relatives. Everyone knows there’s a different set of rules regarding house cleaning for those distinct groups of people. And, c’mon … they aren’t even high level relatives, which are Uncles and Aunts. But, my pleas fell on ears that would not listen to common sense. Her argument was that the house needed to be cleaned anyway, and I really didn’t have an argument about that, because it was true. It’s just … you know … I didn’t get my after breakfast nap, or anything.

Instead of the nap, and even BEFORE breakfast, I was out on the streets of St. Helens stuffing flags into holes in the sidewalk with fellow Lions in celebration of Flag Day. I enjoy doing that with Bert and Sue, so that wasn’t really a chore at all. I even got a free breakfast out of it after we were done which gave me the energy to deal with the house cleaning when I got home.

As I throw these words on the screen it’s becoming more and more clear that I really don’t have an argument at all. It’s OK to clean up the house for relatives, even lower level ones, because they would probably do the same for us. I think. We’ve been to their house before and I’m sure they either cleaned it really well, or their house never gets dirty. There wasn’t a sign of dirt anywhere I looked, and I’m good at doing that. It used to be my job when I was in the Navy to find dirt the cleanup crew missed. I still have the white gloves.

Diane’s at the pharmacy waiting for a new subscription that is, hopefully, going to ease the pain she’s experiencing in her tummy. This is something that’s been going on for a long time and it’s wearing her out. That’s really why I got involved in the house cleaning evolution … I wanted her to sit down and let me do it, but she had to be there supervising, which probably was a good idea. I do things better, and neater, when I know she’s watching me. Left to my own devices, it would wind up done, but done wrong, or not done all the way, because I have a genetic tendancy to be easily distracted. Usually, the distraction is of the nature I explained a blog or two ago, but it could easily be as simple as spying a pretty bug on a curtain, or a speck of glitter on the floor. It doesn’t take much and most of my tasks encompass a voyage of discovery. I’m getting better at retaining focus, but it takes an effort that sometimes makes my eyes water. Wears me out and makes it hard to see clearly.

After eating breakfast, and before returning home to work, I walked around the local car dealer’s lot checking things out. As i was doing that, the owner had just parked on his way to the office, and tried to sell me a car. I explained that the kind of car I had in mind would never be on a car lot because I wanted one that’s waaaay cheaper than his. We want a really cheap one to tow behind the RV. Cheap, and really light. They don’t have cheap. Still, I followed him into the show room and sat down to talk with Bo for a while. Bo is a young man from whom we’ve purchased more than one vehicle over the years. During this conversation I learned that he’s a long time kite boarder and sometimes spends his lunch hour on the Columbia River. I expressed an interest in gretting some pictures of him and his friends “doing their thing” and he’s all for that. Even wanted to let me use his Zodiac to get around and take the shots. So, there may be some interesting pictues for me to share in the near future.

Gotta quit, now, because Diane is home with an SUV full of groceries. I forgot to mention she went shopping, too. Sorry. Shopping is another task associated with visitors, relatives, or not. Even low level relatives.

Day One – sruggled through my four assigned exercises this morning with no discernable malfunctions to any of my major joints. It took me 15 minutes. Still remaining is the commanded 30 minute walk which will be difficult because Diane took Jennie to Portland. Since I’m not normally allowed to leave the house when I’m left alone, and she won’t be home until after supper, I seriously doubt that the walk will happen. She left the keys to the PT, as a test of will power I suspect, but cautioned me against attempting to drive it because she knows what the mileage is. I guess she’s afraid I won’t find my way home. Either that, or she wants to ensure I stay home to work on the lists that she leaves laying around on my computer keyboard and my dresser. She used to just put them in my underwear drawer, but I hardly ever look in there so she’s changed tactics. By putting them on my keyboard there’s no way I can miss them. I can, however, at great risk, ignore them. I rarely do that, and never intentionally. I have several scars that serve as reminders should I sway toward the dark side of non-compliance.

It’s now almost 6:30 pm and I’ve been alone for over six hours. Diane left at noon. I suggested that I could save them both a trip because I’m prefectly capable of doing toes and fingers. I have wire cutters, files, and lots of spray paint, but the unanimous decision was to ignore me and leave me to fend for myself. Diane texted me at 4:30 pm to ask if I’d eaten lunch and I was able to honestly say “Yes, I did!” And, I really did – I had a delightful PB&J on white, side of milk and 4 pieces of fruity candy that Diane left on the counter. The serving size for the candy is 3 pieces which I thought was absurd, because there are four different colors, so I modified the rule. I had one of each color – lemon, orange, lime, and red. I’m not sure what flavor the red one is. Probably cherry. Now I think I’ll have a dozen or so red vines which are almost universally, incorrectly, called red licorice. All true licorice lovers know that licorice is black, not red. Two notable exceptions are Sambuca (an Italian anise -flavoured, usually colourless, liqueur), and Ouzo (the classic Greek anise-flavored liqueur). Both are typically clear until you throw up at which time they assume the color of the last solid food you may have eaten. Consumed on an empty stomach, the color is normally the same as bile directly from your liver.

I’m not saying Sambuca and Ouzo are not good, because they are. I prefer Sambuca because it has the consistancy of thin syrup, unlike it’s watery cousin Ouzo. In Italy Sambuca is traditionally consumed as an after dinner drink with three coffee beans in it. I’m not sure if the coffee beans are meant to be eaten, but I always did because they have significance – one represents health, one represents happiness, and one represents prosperity. If you get more than three it’s because the waiter either doesn’t like you, and wants to ensure you get a raging headache, and an uncontrolable urge to caress the nearest commode about an hour after you leave the restaurant, or he sincerely believes your blood pressure is far below normal. I know this is true.

Tomorrow is Baylee’s 3rd birthday but she didn’t mind celebrating a little early. It’s all about the cake.

And, this is the best way ever to make a birthday cake. It’s a cupcake cake. There’s no cutting, all the pieces are the same size, and everyone gets the same amount of frosting. It doesn’t get any better than that. It’s a Safeway cake where Jennie works as a cashier and the dairy queen.

I had a whole bunch of other stuff right here but somehow it got erased when I started adding pictures. So, I’ll just go along with it and give you some more of them. Here’s Gilligan with Jeran, and Jerrie with Lydia…

Grandma Diane and Jerrie.

Baylee taking her first ride on her new bike.

And here’s Cedric wearing Baylee’s new bike helmet, that she picked out. He’s wearing it because all the necessary extra padding she needs was left at their home. So, she wore Gilligans helmet for her first ride.

Now I’m getting sleeping because the meds are kicking in. So I better stop before I say something that might embarrass Diane. That wouldn’t be good. But, I have this question floating around in my head that just won’t go away and I know it will haunt me tonight if I don’t unload it … do curly headed people have straight pubic hair? There, I’ve done it, and the heck with consequences. I’ll let you know what the punishment for that is as soon as I find out.

But, before I quit, here’s a picture of us guys …

Oh … did I mention that Logan showed up to help celebrate his little sister’s birthday? Don’t think I did.

Hello. My name is Ziva. Not the one from NCIS, but Ziva the dog. A big black dog. I like long walks in the park, long naps, poetry, yogurt, cat food, cheese, weenies, and pretty much anything that falls on the floor when a person is eating. I live in a house with some very nice people who bailed me out of jail after I robbed a convenience store in Deer Island about 4 years ago. It was my third offense and I was headed for the compound from which no dog returns. I was resigned to my fate. I was headed for the big doghouse in the sky.

Then Diane showed up. I had seen so many people come and go during my time at the animal shelter that when she passed my cage I didn’t even do the “puppy dance of joy” to indicate my desire to be rescued. But she looked. Then she stopped and touched me. I still wasn’t convinced this was anything special, but it was nice to be touched, even if briefly. Then she left, as they all do eventually.

But, she returned a short time later with this old grey haired guy and they walked right over to my cage! For a moment I wondered if my food had been spiked with something, causing me to hallucinate. But, no! The old guy actually opened the cage, and sat on the floor to greet me. I really didn’t know what to do because that had never happened before. So, I licked him. Then I did the “puppy dance of joy”, even though I was long past being a puppy, and flopped into his lap. Then I reached up and licked him again as he rubbed that special spot on my tummy. I may have even peed a little. I don’t remember, because the next half hour was a blur. Papers were signed, I was shackled to a lease, and led from the facility, through the front door! I’d never been out that door. Actually, I’d never seen that door because six months earlier I was brought in the back door.

They put me in a car and we drove away. I was apprehensive, because no one told me where were headed, and getting in a car without that information is a little unsettling. For anyone.

After a short ride, we stopped in front of this huge house. I caught a peek of a fenced back yard, with a low fence, and thought to myself, “This might be OK because if things turn bad I can jump that fence no sweat and head for the hills.” I really didn’t think all of that, of course, because I’m a dog. I did see the fence, though.

The back yard wasn’t large, but big enough to give my nose a run for the money. And, they had another dog so I had a new friend! How exciting. And cats! They had cats! I love cats because the taste like chicken. I’m kidding there. I don’t know if they taste like chicken or not, because I’ve never tasted a chicken. I’m really not big on anything that doesn’t ‘crunch’ when I eat it since that time I ate a snake and six yellow jackets. I was really hungry at the time and didn’t put a lot of thought into what I was eating. It was a lesson I’ve never forgotten. I suppose you might find that funny, coming from someone who has no qualms about snatching up tootsie roll from a litter box. I didn’t think I would like them either, but they’re actually quite tasty.

The family assimilated to my needs fairly quickly, and they had little kids that visited from time to time that helped break up the long quiet spells. That was always fun because they would run and play with me and I taught them to throw things so I could chase them. They learned very quickly.

After a while we moved to another house with a bigger yard. I had the family conditioned to trusting me so it was a piece of cake to escape the yard and tour the neighborhoods. Once I was gone for two whole days. It wasn’t all fun, however, because I got trapped under the porch of an abandoned house. There were a lot of people looking for me, and I heard them, but I didn’t say anything because I just knew I was in deep kimchi. That’s a Korean delicacy made out of rotten cabbage and not something you want to be “deep” in. It is however, in small portions, a nice compliment to a really good steak, cooked or not.

My people put up a fence to try and contain me, but fences can’t hold me. No sir. They had no idea how high I can jump when I put my mind to it. I can jump really, really high. Especially when I’m scared, or excited. Once they determined that putting up a fence was a total waste of time, they removed a large part of it thereby eliminating the challenge of escaping. So I just stayed home from then on. Oh, there’s been a time or two when I’ve chased off a random cat, or a coyote, but I come right back.

A couple of months ago Diane started feeding stray cats, which I thought was just dandy. I said I love cats, but I only really love the ones that run. Then I can chase them. One of them, however, became a favorite and quit running. So, we didn’t chase it. Now it’s moved into the house. That’s not a big deal, however, because she doesn’t eat my food. The other big dog won’t let her.

I forgot to mention the annoying little black dog. I’m not sure what he is but he’s got a very shrill voice and he uses it a lot. I tell him to shut up all the time but he obviously doesn’t understand big dog talk. Another thing that annoys me, a lot, is when I’m going to the bathroom. I mean, there’s not a lot of privacy to begin with, but it’s very difficult to pee when you have an annoying little dog sniffing your butt. I’ve toyed with the idea of running a short distance and stopping real fast to see if I can get his nose stuck in my butt, but I don’t know how I would get him out of there because I don’t have opposing thumbs. I guess Panzee, the other big dog here, could yank him out with her teeth, or I could just do an ass whip and see how far I can toss him … hey, that sounds like fun! I’m going to try that the next time we go out.

This is me just after I finished my morning yogurt exercises. As I recall, I was asking whoever took the picture where my coffee was. I hadn’t had any yet.

So, life is good for me. I’m happy and I get lots, and lots of sleep. No sir, it doesn’t get any better than this. You should be so lucky.