To the Beach & Back

Here I am, sitting in my recliner, Max hanging out between my legs, watching an NCAA Men’s playoff game (Clemson vs. Alabama) while Diane watches a recorded episode of The Bachelor. Living the dream.

In case you missed it, Kelsey (sp) won and got a humungus ring. Also, Alabama won the game. I don’t know who they play next. The game I watched before that one was UCONN vs. Illinois. Quite an amazing game. When the score was tied 23-23 UCONN went on a 30-0 run which kinda sealed it for them.

Now I’m compelled to lean into the goofy side of my brain. You may stop reading at any time and use your time in a more constructive way. I won’t mind at all.

Recently, Diane and I, and Max, spent a few days at Cape Lookout State Park near Tillamook where we didn’t even take one walk on the beach as a complete family. Max and I got out because he made it very clear that if I didn’t take him out he was going to crap in the trailer. That would not have made Diane happy. The weather was crappy so it really wouldn’t have been upset. But, we walked on the beach numerous times to avoid an unwanted nature call on the couch. He’s never done that but sometimes it’s difficult to deny physical needs that are ignored for too long. So, we walked and played.

The tide was out most of the times we walked making the beach appear to be enormous.

I tried to get him to run in the waves, and he did for about 30 seconds before dragging me back to the high tide mark that was littered with thousands of dead velella. They were odiferous and Max found them to be very appealing to his sensitive nose.

Left to his own devices he did his best to roll his little body in the sweet perfume of dead sea creatures but I won that tussle. He still needed a bath which he got when we returned to the trailer.

Those things were everywhere amongst the rocks.

To make the trip a little more enjoyable, we came upon some waterfalls that dribbled themselves onto the beach. They were very pretty and I did my best to get Max under them be he wasn’t having any of that.

Instead of choosing to rinse under one of the waterfalls he wandered toward the incoming tide, climbed on a rock and was promptly washed off into a roiling spin bath. I wish I had had some soap with me. I would have taken a photo but didn’t want to take a chance of dropping my phone into the water. Just trust me when I say he was thoroughly soaked when I managed to get him back to dry ground.

A few days of excitement …

I’ve made numerous attempts to sit myself down and greet everyone, to bring you up to date on what’s happening in my vicinity. Every time I move this direction, something of extreme importance pulls me away, then I forget. In my defense, please note that it was a distraction that prompted the forgetfullness. Had the distraction not happened, there’s a very strong possibility that I could have remembered all on my own, sooner than how I did that just now. Yes, there was no distraction today. I must, however, say what’s on my mind before I leave the computer because it’s possible I might not come back right away. Especially if the bathroom is the reason I might have to leave.

I take Max out back, when he asks, so he can go lay in the yard and listen to the creek rolling slowly past us. He’s also out there so he can keep a close eye on any strange deer that dare to wander close to his yard. He kind of sits there, daring them to invade his space. While on guard duty, this guy was bouncing into the ground about 3 inches in front of Max’s nose. He was fascinated. He could have easily chomped it in two, but he just watched. The reason for his bouncing was because he was dying of some dreaded dragon fly disease as he promptly ceased fluttering as soon as I gently placed him in an open mason jar in a vain attempt to save him. It took me a while to figure out that it was some sort of extinct Dragon Fly. A scary looking dude, for sure. To give you a sense of size, he was laying in the bottom of a quart jar for this photo.

On another eventful day, I moved the RV out of our driveway in anticipation of receipt of our tonneau cover for the truck. It was to be a freight delivery and I wanted it in the carport which was blocked by the RV. All I had to do was back it into the street, then place it in the public area next to our property. Unfortunately, someone erected the mail boxes right in the perfect spot where I couldn’t see them. I was more concerned about not running in to one of the six cars parked in our neighbor’s driveway. I was about 2 seconds too late in putting on the brakes to halt my progress. So, I knocked the structure over and didn’t feel a thing. But I knew it was done.

After parking the RV I dragged the structure across the street to the car port and dismantled it. After looking in the wood shed for a viable 4×4 to replace the vertical post, I gave up and called Jeff who just happened to have one about 5 feet long. Perfect. I told him there was no hurry as I had to dig out the old post, and whatever held it in place. As I chipped away I discovered that I was apparently the 4th person to knock it over as the remains of two installs still existed next to the one I broke. Learning this made my involvement in the mishap more tolerable. Kind of like a right of passage for the neighborhood. I guess I can mark this task done on my list of things to do.

Yesterday, while walking around the block with Max, I came upon an elderly lady who was retrieving groceries from her car. I thought, “I can help do that”. I my effort to move toward the car I had get myself from the street onto the sidewalk. This is when I discovered that when moving to a higher elevation, even 6 inches, one is required to lift both feet, one at a time, at least as high the desired destination. In the past, doing this was second nature. Something I didn’t need to think about at all and it seemed reasonable that I didn’t need to think about it then. Balance and gravity defied my efforts and my attempt to give this lady a hand resulted in a spectacular tuck and roll tumble leaving me laying on my back near the back of the lady’s car. There was a silent moment, as she looked down on me, when I was tempted to ask if she could use a hand. Then reality took over and I thought a better idea would be for me to regain a vertical position and see about recovering a little dignity. Yes, I fell down in public. A few people inquired about how was I, and did I need help. I knew nothing was broken because I’m an expert tuck and roller. I just skinned my right elbow and right knee in the process.

Max insisted that we return home immediately to seek medical attention. I agreed. By the time we made it to the house my elbow was bleeding quite nicely but the knee not so much. Since I didn’t think about it, and Diane is all business when it comes to stopping someone from bleeding, we have no photographic evidence that this event ever happened. So, I just found a skinned knee on the internet. Mine is worse than this.

Image result for What Does a Skinned Knee look like. Size: 238 x 206. Source: www.flickriver.com

I couldn’t find a suitable photo of a skinned elbow so most of you will have to recall one from your childhood.

Max, though a little dog, right at 20 lbs, has made it known that we need a king size bed. Before he showed up, the queen bed seemed like the proper size, and we already had one, so that’s what we’ve been sleeping on. Then along comes Max.

The photo is deceptive because he’s lined up properly but when the lights go out he lays crosswise, making both of us move out of his way.

When you look at the next photo you can help but wonder how he can sleep with his head jammed against a table leg, next to a paper shredder …

… or like this …

… and still find it necessary to make sure everyone in the bed with him knows you’re there. I know, we could banish him from the bed but it’s really difficult to do when he looks at you like this…

Oahu – Day 8

On this day we didn’t do much in the way of playing tourist. Our main goal was to get gas for the rental so we wouldn’t run out on the way to or from the Polynesian Cultural Center which is waaaay over on the other side of the island. I think it’s something like 34 miles away. Sounds close, but with speed limits normally 35-45 mph, and unpredictable traffic, it takes about 1.5 hours to get there. There are, however, always drivers who think it’s necessary to get places faster than anyone else. It’s them who make traffic unpredictable. Diane dismisses them easily. In general, drivers here are pretty nice.

Getting to the base gas station was a journey worth mentioning. First, our GPS took us to an AMR Gas station located next to a small NEX in a military housing area, but the station was closed forever. It was interesting because the GPS took us to the small exchange on a previous trip so it was deja’vu all over again.

I asked a young Marine, who was headed for the store, where the station really was and he gave us good information. Turns out it’s hidden away behind the main NEX and Commissary that we’ve visited a few times already. Diane got us next to an empty pump right away but I caused a bit of delay to our line because I couldn’t figure out how to get the fuel door open. There was no inside release, so I went back to it and smacked it with my hand and it popped right open. That didn’t work the first time. When it opened I was surprised to discover that there wasn’t a cap for tank behind the door. Turns out that the door seals against the filler spout making a cap unnecessary. Never had one of those before. The guy on the motorcycle behind us wasn’t impressed.

Anyway, we got the tank full, then drove back to the parking lot that takes up a lot of space around the yacht club and what I call the Hilton Lagoon. That’s the one that’s in front of the Rainbow Tower.

Diane drove to the very edge of the parking area and was waved into a spot next to a group of local surfers. The view directly ahead of us was Diamondhead, to the left Waikiki Beach.  Couldn’t have hoped for a better spot.

We broke out our brand new folding chairs and parked them between a couple of large canoes that we stranded on beach and just sat there taking in the view.

It wasn’t long before a lady named Faith struck up a conversation with Diane. They talked for a while until we had to move because the middle canoe was returning to the next, where we were sitting.

Faith’s husband, Saul, who grew up in NYC, his wife is from the Philippines. We have no idea where they currently reside, but that doesn’t matter. We had a nice visit.

Eventually, the sun went down. I could tell because it got darker so I took another photo of a sunset. I’ve got hundreds of these, but they never get old.

Then we left, making one of the drivers circling the parking lot very happy, and drove back to the hotel. Diane got out and headed back to the room while I assumed driver duties and drove to the Hale Koa parking lot that I’m sure I mentioned in previous posts. It’s a pleasant walk back to our hotel.

That’s our routine.

See you on Day 9. I should have information about the Polynesian Cultural Center for you.

Jesiah

Interesting name, right? I think so. The most common meaning for this name, that I could find, is “The Lord exists.” Last Friday I had an opportunity to spend most of the morning with him because his Mom, my daughter, had to keep him home because he was banned from day care due to a fever on Thursday.

Oh ya, he’s only 1. A little over I guess, and he’s getting new teeth as we speak. Hence the fever.

Jesiah is the happiest little guy you might never meet. He’s always smiling and he doesn’t cry at all. Ever. His Mom may disagree, but I can only speak from my experience.

So, Jennifer arrives with him at 0700 Friday morning, gives me his car seat, just in case, his diaper bag and medicine bag, then takes off to go to work. Normally Diane would be the preferred choice to care for Jesiah but she had something to do. I’d tell you what it was, but there’s nothing on our calendar that justifies her absence. Could be, also, that she really wasn’t busy elsewhere, but with me all along and I didn’t notice because she was there with me all along.

I was, as you can imagine, concerned. The last time I can remember baby sitting was somewhere between 1999 and 2003. That’s a pretty big gap between engagements of this nature. But, I shouldn’t have worried because we got along just great … as long as I did exactly what he wanted me to do. Apparently I passed that test. I found out that he was far more interested in catching flys than watching Disney. Can’t say I blame him. It’s kinda fun.

That, and it turns out he’s more interested in HGTV which works great for Diane.

He got infatuated with Diane’s neck pillow that looks a lot like a cat.

He was also very interested in Diane’s collection of cats

Now, even though Jesiah has a pretty mellow demeanor, he loves to throw things. What makes that OK is that he smiles the entire time he’s in motion with stuff flying from his tiny little hands. We learned, too, that things just sitting on an end table are fair game. He would walk up to, say, a glass of water, look at you until he made eye contact, then swipe his arm sideways so fast that no one has time to react and catch the glass before it drenches you. Then, with his smile still in place, he’d march off in search of something else to dislodge. Needless to say, he quickly trained us to move all items in danger to locations above 3′.

Toward the end of his short visit, his cousin, Jerrie appeared and kept him busy until it was time to take him to someone more qualified than me to tend to him.

It really wasn’t a chore. Honest.

He’s good as gold.

May the 4th be with you all.

Errands, a Vaccination, & Pork Chops

I’ve been in a bit of a daze over the last eleven days since my last post. Some of you may think that’s normal for me, and perhaps you’re correct. I readily admit that my thoughts are easily scattered making it difficult for me to distinguish fact and fiction. Since fiction is my favorite form of reading material I tend to lean heavily in the direction. Continuing with the scattered theme, that’s kinda what this post will be about.

The other day I was summoned to Daniel & Jennifer’s home to pick up some documents that needed to be scanned and some mail Jennifer wished me to mail. Oh, and deliver her water bill to the appropriate box at the water department.

When I arrived to accomplish these things, Jennifer took my photo.

She thought she’d have it to share with her friends to show them what a goofball I am. What she didn’t know was that I wound up at her door in this manner because her Mother expressly forbid me to leave the house looking like this. I admit I was flirting with danger doing this, but it’s tough for me to back away from a challenge like that. Plus, I had strong notions about going to Walmart while I was out. On the trip, however, I re-evaluated that course of action because it was daylight and it’s my understanding that people don’t usually go to Walmart dressed like this during the day. It’s evening garb. I could be wrong about that, but figured not going was erring on the side of caution.

I’ve been talking with Cedric a lot via email lately and that’s fun. He’s stationed aboard the USS Nimitz (CVN-68), in case I haven’t mentioned that early. The ship has been deployed for almost a year now. That’s a long time at sea. With the COVID pandemic they don’t get port visits like a normal WESTPAC cruise. That, and with Iran playing games with missiles, the ship is always on alert. Just recently Iran planted one in the ocean abour a 100 miles from the Nimitz, just to say “Hi!”

Cedric is weathering the cruise nicely and is looking forward to getting back Stateside. He will be discharged not long after they return.

Today was a banner day for me. Diane drove me to the VA Hospital so I could get my 1st COVID vaccination shot. I made the appointment online and it was a very simple process. Here’s the shirt I wore…

The nurses all wanted one. Since I got it from Daniel, my son-in-law, I gave them all his email address and phone number so he could help them. Actually, that’s a lie. I didn’t do that, but it might have been fun to see how many of them would have called or emailed him. But I didn’t. Honest.

I spent a total of 25 minutes in the hospital rom the time I checked in to the auditorium until I left the building. That included filling out a form, getting the shot, then sitting in a chair for 15 minutes to see if I could do it without falling on the floor.

The nurse was great. Didn’t get her name so I’ll call her Ruby. That’s a fun name. The first thing I asked her was if the needle was really as huge as the ones the news has been showing us for weeks now. They just looked overly large, and they always showed the nurse pushing it into someone’s are really slow. Ruby and I talked about that a little bit and she assured me the needle was normal size and she would be quick about it. She even let me take a photo of her in action …

I found Diane parked pretty close to the front door and we had a nice ride home. When we got there., I fried up some pork chops for lunch …

They were really good. I marinated them in some Yoshidas teriyaki stuff that I found in the cupboard. It was brand new, never opened, and had an expiration date of October 2018. Looked good to me. Tasted good, too.

Now, many hours after the shot, my arm is really sore. I’m not sure if it’s all because of the shot, or partially because Diane had me help her scrub the little black dog. That, my friends, is a risky job. He’s pretty blind and isn’t really fond of water so his goes on high alert to protect himself and gets quite aggressive. Thankfully, I have some heavy duty leather gloves to wear during this evolution. I hold him while Diane does the scrubbing. It only took about an hour.

Now I’m going to go sit with Diane and watch news for a while.

Stay safe out there and don’t neglect to get your shot when given the opportunity.

Trek to the beach

Truly, it was a trek. For Diane and me, it was an epic trek. It began quite calmly with a short walk around B Loop here in the park, to a very soft sand path that immediately aimed itself uphill. Next to the entry point stood a pole to which was attached a small sign with an arrow point the way. Beneath the arrow the distance was revealed to be 0.75 miles.

So, 3/4 of a mile uphill in soft sand. No problem. It was a challenge for both of us so we marched on. Very slowly.

Here I must report that this park has a portion available for folks who bring their horses and they are allowed to use portions of the sandy path we were trekking. Dodging occasional horse droppings on shared portions of the path caused me to wonder why campers are constantly reminded to clean up after their dogs but nowhere did I see similar reminders for horse owners to do the same. Especially for common use areas.

How is this fair? I suppose it could be a safety issue for the riders who would have to stop, dismount, cleanup, remount, then restart. Maybe OSHA made a decision that exempts horse folks from stooping so low as to pick up their poop. I don’t know, but, I have a solution.

Pretty much every parade I’ve ever attended had horses who marched down the road with all the other displays. Usually, they followed all the bands and marching units, for obvious reasons. Each group of horses is followed by a brave group of people with a shovel and a cart, picking up the droppings as necessary. I don’t think it’s beyond reasonable to provide the same service for horses allowed to traverse paths shared by humans. The pickeruppers could follow along on an off quad, or a small jeep.

Just a suggestion.

Now that I’ve unburdened my troubled sense of fairness, let me just say that Diane and I made the 1.5 mile round trip without incident. Although the temperature was reported at 68 degrees, neither of us believed it and took hoodies for the trip. They were put to good use once we arrived at the beach. The wind was blowing quite hard driving the wind chill factor down to about 9 degrees. That’s probably not true but it was really chilly. Even so, I ventured down that last steep hill to the beach so I could look at the little rocks the water scatters all over. Diane chose to skip that last challenge and found a comfy place to sit by a large sign with 146 on it. These signs, scattered up and down the coast, are used by safety agencies for locating emergencies along the coast. I looked that up so it must be true. Makes sense.

Anyway, while wandering around smartly on the beach, with no one within 2 miles of us, except the wind surfer making his way south. The results of my pebble hunting was about 7 pounds of extra weight for the return trip on that soft sand path home.

The path from the beach goes into those trees, and beyond. Daunting.

We took numerous breaks on the way back to let our hips and knees rest. Now it’s later, we’ve had supper, and sitting for any length of time causes micro seizures of all my crotch muscles. Getting up is difficult and painful. I’m having the same symptoms I get when I drag my golf bag around a 9-hole course. I fail to understand why all my discomfort is centered within the confines of my crotch area. Doesn’t make sense.

Still, it hurts. I will heal, I know, but for now, it hurts.

Please pray for me.

Rocks before the trip.
Rocks after the trip.

Family Camp – 2020

Grace Baptist Church Family Camp is an event we attend every year as honorary Baptists. That’s mainly because we are related to some of the members and also because they just like us. The “also” is an opinion but I’m sticking with it.

We departed civilization on Tuesday, July 28th and completed the the trip, that normally takes about an hour, in about an hour. It’s really not that far away … just over the hill about 5 miles from Vernonia. Vernonia is only about 25 miles from home and Google maps thinks it’s only a 38 minute drive. What Google Maps doesn’t know is that the road is only 2 lanes and it’s very curvy. Therefore, I’ll stand by my claim that it’s about an hour away, which it truly is, unless Diane’s driving.

I will surely be in trouble for revealing that last bit …

The camp doesn’t officially begin until Friday but we die hards (the old people) arrive early to enjoy a bit of peace and quiet before the children descend to make a joyful noise. We took three of them with us so we had a head start, and that’s just fine. They were good as gold the entire time.

Since Vernonia is only about 32 miles from Forest Grove, where the Sunset Grove Golf Course is, it was decided that I should meet Doug there Wednesday morning for golf. I figured, “What the heck, I’m in the area, so why not do that?” So, I did. Turns out that the golf course is closer to Scappoose, where Doug lives, than it is to Big Eddy. But, I made it on time and we had a wonderful time. We always do. I lost, of course, because I always do. You’d think that since I always keep score I’d win one once in a while. The trouble is, even with fudging the numbers a little, Doug still wins.

Back to camp …

Big Eddy Park is located along the Nehalem River just off Highway 47, the road from Vernonia to Clatskanie. Big Eddy Park and I go back a long ways to April 20, 1968, when my big brother, Jack, thought it would be a good idea for me to participate in the Nehalem River Boat Race. Seemed like a fun thing to do so I was all in. What wasn’t related until later was that as we passed under each bridge along the way he would drop half a case of beer to us. After a couple of bridges I figured out that it wasn’t really a race at all. It was just a reason to float down the river and drink beer.

The fact that I was getting married later that day was the primary reason for involving me in the ‘race’. Jack, you see, was my best man and it was his job to make the day memorable. He did that.

When we finally made it ashore at Big Eddy I admit I was ready for a nap. I had no idea what time it was, but I remember getting to the church in plenty of time for the ceremony and I totally remember the entire ceremony. It was awesome!

Back to camp, again …

Diane and I spent time around the camp fire with Daniel, Jennifer, Lydia, and Jeran, and anyone else who had a notion to join us. Yes, we were socially compliant, keeping our distance, but I’m pretty sure we could have sat a little closer because the fire surely burned up any virus bits that came into our area.

The kids, Gilligan, Baylee, and Jerrie, ran wild all day, every day, until they got hungry. Then we fed them so they could go out for another round.

The bottom of the river throughout Big Eddy Park is covered with river rock. Those are the nicely rounded rocks that don’t kill your feet when you step on them barefoot unless you’re old like me. Then you wear shoes. Kids spend a lot of time looking for the pretty rocks when they aren’t actively floating around on an inner-tube. Here’s the best rock of the day that a little girl found:

Pure agate. Biggest one I’ve ever seen in the wile.

Here are my girls in a rare moment of inactivity …

Lydia, Gilligan, Baylee, Jerrie

Bronson even came along for a couple of days but had to leave because it was all a bit stressful for him.

Bronson

Diane made camping more homey with her kitty slippers …

Jennifer and Daniel cooked gourmet meals twice a day throughout the entire stay because they are on the Whole 30 diet …

I tried some of it and it was really good.

Jennifer braided hair for anyone who had hair long enough and wanted it done. Mine wasn’t quite there, yet, so i missed out. Little Jerrie didn’t, though …

Gilligan, Jeran, Daniel, and Lydia spent a lot of time running their long boards around the park. Lydia is the only one I could capture. The others were just too fast for me …

We came home last Sunday afternoon, when church service was over, then returned the children to their rightful owners, and took. naps.

Camping is hard work.

Itsa Monday – May the 4th be with you

I’ve established a routine for eating properly that has been successful in controlling my BS level. My wife is pleased. She was getting a little annoyed with me for not minding established rules for diabetical eating requirements which caused my BS level to go whacky every once in a while. Truthfully, being an amateur diabetic (I’m not on insulin), I tend to experiment with the hope I can find just the right solution the will allow me to eat whatever I want, whenever I want. Sadly, that doesn’t work.

I must control myself. I was kinda hoping that Diane would be my guide through this confusing sugarless existence, but she’s right … this is my battle and I need to take charge.

Getting to this point has had it’s ups and downs over the past few years, at times causing extreme concern about what’s going on. I’ve learned to recognize the need for sustenance when the cold hollow feeling grips my innards. That doesn’t happen often, but it’s exciting when it does. The last time was just a few days ago when I had Dungeness crab Louis for lunch and a bunch of sautéed shrimp for supper. I don’t know how many there were, but I bought a pound of them. My BS dropped to 62. Apparently there’s not a lot of diabetic-fighting ‘stuff’ in shrimp to keep things stable. Or, there was a conflict between the crab and shrimp during the digestive process. Who knows? Obviously not me.

Half a can of peaches fixed it. I would have had a glass of orange juice but I couldn’t find any. That works, too.

What made the event a little scary was that it occurred just as I was ready to go to bed. So, of course, my head took me down the path where, had I not caught it, Diane would have found me unresponsive in the morning and would have had to call someone to haul me away.

My golf buddy, Doug, is a professional diabetic, who assured me that had I been asleep when my BS dropped too low, my body would have alerted me to that fact so I’d awake to take care of it. He knows all that stuff. He lives alone and has dealt with high BS for many years.

Since my last ‘event’, I changed my eating habits in this way: one piece of toast, with crunchy peanut butter for breakfast, around 6 am; a large sausage patty, 2-3 eggs, O’Brien hash browns with freshly chopped peppers & onions, and one piece of toast for lunch, around noonish; whatever Diane wants for supper, whenever she wants it. Supper is an unknown but breakfast and lunch are consistent. Eating that way has allowed me to drop my morning BS level to around 130, down from 260+.

And, another thing I discovered is that those rumors I’ve heard about exercising being good for me are actually true! Who knew? Being sequestered at the moment, makes exercise difficult. Generally, my exercise routine consists of waking up, walking about 3 feet to the bathroom, then another 50 feet to the kitchen, then 30-40 around the house gathering dog and cat food after letting them out to do whatever they want to do, 30 feet from the kitchen to my recliner with a fresh glass of water and my PB toast, back to the kitchen to let the dogs back in, 10 feet to the dishwasher with all their dirty dishes, 40 feet back to my recliner where I sit, but don’t recline, to wait for the cat to come back, then 15 feet to the patio door when she announces her desire to return, then stand there with the door open which she exerts her authority by licking one foot or the other, then saunters slowly in.

Then I go sit down and start reading my book on my iPad. I don’t recline right away because I know the cat is waiting for me to do that so she can go beat on the patio door to go back outside. If I remain upright she may come jump in my lap and give me a false sense of security that she’s going to be there a while, then I recline. She waits a few minutes, looking over her shoulder, waiting for me to get comfortable, then jumps up to go beat on the door. She actually does that, too. Stands on her hind feet and pounds on the glass with her front feet. It used to be cute. I used to leave the patio door open for her as it’s on a secure balcony but in the past she’s brought treats, like mice, and various kinds of birds into the house when not supervised.

Sorry about that. I was talking about exercising, wasn’t I? What I shared really is exercise, but it’s just not enough to make a difference win one’s BS level. So, I decided to do my exercising on the golf course. Sounds like a really dumb idea because I have sciatica that’s brutal at times. But, I decided I’d walk the course instead of ride a cart like normal.

Turns out, I survived. We only play 9 holes and the course we use is pretty flat so the pain was negligible. I didn’t golf all that well, but I had some good hits. The big benefit from walking was this: I walked over 8,000 steps without falling down even once, and I travelled over 3 miles without getting out of breath. Amazing. Then, the next morning, my BS was something I could like with, literally.

Now I’m being a really good boy by eating regularly. I quit eating cake, ice cream, and pie, cut my bread intake in half (one piece of toast, not two), and don’t skip meals.

My bride is proud of me, and I feel better. I’d take a picture but “feeling better” doesn’t relate well to “looking better” in my case. I’m still really old and I need a shower. Diane told me that a couple of days ago so I guess today is the day for that, even though it’s not Saturday.

I must stop now and go make my breakfast before I fade away,

All of you please stay safe.

Yesterday at MB

We walked again, very slowly because our little legs were sore, and there is a lot to see and do here in Myrtle Beach.

Instead of trudging our way up the beach (north), as we did the day before, we stuck to N. Ocean Blvd, walking south. I think we walked a couple of miles (one going and one coming) and the handy dandy app on my iPhone incorrectly reported that I took 6400+ steps doing it. I know that’s wrong because Diane’s fitbit told her she walked over 9300 steps and covered over 4 miles with the effort. I’ve brought this discrepancy to her attention many times and she always says, “you set it up.” What she means, of course, is that I entered the information about how long her steps are.

Considering that she gets credit for twice as many steps as me I can only presume that she either changed the settings or I made a mistake setting it up.

The other possibility is that the app I’m watching is the generic one provided by the infallible Apple people that keeps track of “stuff” only when it’s on your body. My phone isn’t always on my body. Ergo, I’m going to use Diane’s numbers instead of mine from now on. Looks better. Also, the length of her step isn’t much different than mine any more because I’m in the shuffling stage of life and, due to my excessive military career, tend to walk in step with her as we mosey along. So, I walked over 9,000 steps yesterday, too.

So, on this trip south, which fronts pretty much all of the big resorts along the beach, for 50 miles we had an opportunity to see some pretty snazzy places. Lots of them have tricky names like RipTydz, or Sea Dip Motel & Condominium Family Resort. Tricky stuff like that. There were many more, of course, but I can’t remember all of them.

I don’t know what this place is. Maybe Diane knows.

We stopped in a few shops and determined that shopping on the ‘strip’ wasn’t financially feasible and decided to drive inland for a while to see if things got better.

We’re thinking we’ll go to Conway today. Diane read something about it in the tour guide book and thought it would be fun. On a map it looks like a long ways from the beach, but it’s only about 30 minutes away. More on that later. Maybe.

We found this boardwalk not far from our hotel. As you can see, like most other vacation destinations Myrtle Beach has it’s very own giant ferris wheel. We will not be going on this one, called Sky-Something, even thought it actually stops to let people on and off unlike the really BIG ones.

In the middle of all the busyness there was a plaque that totally defines Diane’s Credo.

I’m not sure which one of these I like best – I Love Sugar, or the Gay Dolphin.

On the way back I was intrigued by this facility. Considering it’s diminutive size I thought it was improperly named. But, since it’s right across the street from a very large, tall, resort, and it appears to be pretty old, I suspect that it’s been here a while, no doubt before the big boys moved in.

After the walking tour we went to the movie to see Downton Abbey. Diane’s been wanting to see it since it was released and, I admit, so did I. Yes, I’m a fan.

The last two photos are just looking ahead to future movie possibilities.

Then we went “home” and watched the sunset from our porch.

This morning Diane noticed that the water was making scallops on the beach as it came it, unlike it’s been doing previously. Although the waves were still pretty straight, the way they finished coming in was very interesting.

Now we’re going to Conway to visit a museum which you will learn all about when we make it back.

Ciao.

PS – The movie Downton Abbey was absolutely wonderful. Highly recommended for those who were addicted to the TV series.

Walking on Myrtle Beach

Over the years Diane and I have walked a little on our trips and vow to continue doing so when we return home. For many reasons that never seems to have happened. Mainly, I think, it’s because it’s easier to sit in our comfy recliners instead of walking. It could be, also, that it was raining a lot. Yeah, that could be it. We don’t walk in the rain.

Today, however, we walked almost 4 miles on Myrtle Beach this afternoon and didn’t cramp up even one time. Although we didn’t discuss continuing our walks at home, I think it’s understood that we really should. If it’s not raining when we get home, we will walk for sure.

The thing about walking on Myrtle Beach is that the beach slopes pretty sharply toward the water and the flat part is all soft sand which is very difficult to walk in. Plus, Diane’s fitbit doesn’t give her any credit for the extra effort involved with walking in soft sand. It doesn’t give extra credit for the wear and tear on knees and hips due to the slope one must traverse on the north and south trek.

One thing Diane learned, because of that slope, is that her right leg is shorter than her left. That revelation is based on the fact that walking north (left leg on the up slope) hurt more than walking south (short leg on the up slope).

I may have a similar affliction because walking north I was always wandering off to my right, toward the water. Now, in addition to the possibility that I have a short right leg, it could have been caused by my distraction with the water as it recedes away to my right. It’s very disorienting and causes me to lose my balance. On the trip south, however, my tendency was still to wander off to my right as I walked. I guess I’m just totally out of whack. I was happy that Diane found the trip back less stressful on her joints. So, all of our walks from now on, while we’re here, will be south bound only while on the beach. On the way back we can take one of many surface streets. Although they’re level, Diane thinks if she walked with her right foot on the sidewalk and her left on the street it might even things out for her. We’re going to give that a shot tomorrow. Don’t know why we didn’t think of the a lot sooner. I’ll let you know how that goes. If I remember.

After returning from our walk Diane warmed up some soup for a simple lunch, then we took another walk to our rental car, which is parked in a facility about 1 block away. There is no parking at the hotel for anyone. They do have a valet service but all vehicles are parked in the same building. The difference is valet is $10 a day and self parking is free. For me it’s a no-brainer to opt for free.

Anyway, we got the car and drove approximately 1 more block where Diane parked equidistant between a barber shop and a Dollar General store. The barber shop was for me because I agreed with Diane that I needed a haircut. She wanted me to get it cut before our trip but I refused. Today was the time, so I agreed. The Dollar General store was for Diane for two reasons; 1) she loves cheap stores and 2) we needed more bottled water. We apparently needed another bottle of wine, some chips, fruit, place mats, a cheese grater, and some spices, too.

Diane got all the stuff she wanted and I got a pretty stellar haircut from a guy named Enoch. Best haircut I’ve had in years.

Now, here are some photos that commemorate the day …

We moved up to the soft sand on the way north to sit a bit and drink water.
This is us resting.
Heading back south to one of those buildings. Diane went on ahead to blaze a trail
Back on our 17th floor balcony

After a bit of resting we went to the activity center to paint a picture. This was Diane’s first try at painting with acrylics and she did awesome. Now she wants to do it some more.

Diane’s
Mine