Category Archives: Family

Summer, Golf, & TV Shows

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Did I mention that summer here in our part of Oregon was so long that our hydrangeas bloomed twice? it’s true. They did.

Yesterday I went golfing with Vern, Jim, and Doug at Wildwood Golf Course. When we go there it’s an 18-hole event which generally wears me out. We had a great time and I even parred a coupe of holes which is totally uncharacteristic of my normal play. I don’t get many pars. In truth, my goal for any given hole, regardless of what par may be, is to finish it in single digits. I can truthfully report that I accomplished my goal for almost all of the 18 holes played.

It’s raining today and pretty dreary. But, it’s going to perk up later in the week and there’s talk of going golfing again. As many of you know, weather isn’t really a factor on whether or not we go golfing. Weather just comes in to consideration when deciding what to wear. You know … shorts and zories, or shorts and boots.

Speaking of golf … I saw the following joke on Facebook …

A married man was having an affair with his secretary. One day they went to her place and made love all afternoon. 
 
Exhausted, they fell asleep and woke up at 8 PM. 
 
The man hurriedly dressed and told his lover to take his shoes outside and rub them in the grass and dirt. 
 
He put on his shoes and drove home. 
 
‘Where have you been?’ his wife demanded. 
 
‘I can’t lie to you,’ he replied, ‘I’m having an affair with my secretary. We had sex all afternoon.’ 
 
She looked down at his shoes and said, ‘You lying bastard! You’ve been playing golf!
 

Last night we sat down to watch the season premier of “Sleepy Hollow” which was one of the many shows recorded on Diane’s DVR. About half-way through I commented on how confusing it was and how ridiculous the story had become. It wasn’t a fun one for us so we took it off our viewing list and will no longer record it. We will, however, continue with “Blue Bloods”, “Person of Interest”, “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.”, “The Good Wife”, “The Big Bang Theory”, “Madam Secretary”, “Dancing With The Stars”, “The Blacklist”, “Castle”, “Rizzoli & Isles”, “Forever”, “Criminal Minds”,  “Scorpion”, anything with “NCIS” in the title, anything with “CSI” in the title, “Hawaii Five-O”, “The Middle”, all the Ducks & Beavers games, and pretty much anything on HGTV. A little bit of basic math reveals these shows cover more than 24 hours a week so it’s pretty much a part-time job to watch them all. But, we manage to get it done. The dogs aren’t real happy about it because they don’t get a lot of escorted time outside. You may also be wondering how I find time to play golf with all these TV watching responsibilities hovering over me. Well, that’s when HGTV gets watched. Oh, ya! We watch some of the NFL games, too, and will be watching the Portland Trailblazers when the NBA gets going again. Wears me out just thinking about it. Maybe I should get a hobby.

Did I mention that a famous local social figure in Scappoose has a new hip? He’s doing well, last I heard, which is good. He told me he was limited to being up no more than an hour a day unless he was compelled to attend a quilt show. Then it was OK to be up and around for six hours. That makes sense in a complicated sort of way.

Yesterday (I think) I called the new hip owners brother to make sure he was still living in Idaho. He is, but he’s getting slower on the draw when it comes to answering the phone. It must have rang 7-8 times before he picked up. Considering his advanced age, perhaps I should be more understanding. He should adopt my modus operandi that ensures I’m never more than 18 inches from a phone, even in the bathroom. So, don’t hesitate to call me. Any time.

Now I’m going to watch Monday Nite Football.

Bomb Scare @ St. Helens High School

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This morning the St. Helens High School was evacuated because one of the sophomore students brought an explosive device to school. This was discovered when the perp disclosed this information to other students while off campus at the near-by McDonald’s. The students who were apprised of this situation informed the assistant principal who initiated the evacuation.

Turns out the device was in a locker outside Jeran’s first period class. Although the device was determined to be one that wouldn’t have destroyed the school, it could still have caused significant damage.

We learned of all these “goings on” when Jennifer texted Diane this morning to alert us about the evacuation and to invite us to lunch at Zhen’s. Those event go together because after the school was evacuated, all the students were transported to the Columbia City School and parents were informed they could pick them up there. That’s what Daniel and Jennifer did just before lunch. Since the kids weren’t allowed to take anything with them, all their lunches were left at school, so they were hungry, like most other teenagers in the world. So, we had Chinese food for lunch.

While dining we heard all about the morning events from our three high school grandchildren – Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran. During the conversation a question about who the errant student might be. At the time that information hadn’t been shared by authorities. Without hesitation, Cedric, our “in-house” empath, mentioned a name and explained why he thought it was that person. Hours later we learned he was dead on about who made the device.

Interesting day.

Random News From St. Helens

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Sometime during the night, a couple of weeks ago, someone invaded our street and filled a number of large pot holes near the N. Vernonia Road intersection with fresh asphalt. No one at our end of the street knows who did it and some residents are fearful this intruder may work his, or her, way up the street removing indents that have become a customary part of our drive home. Removing the need to dodge holes will take away the highlite of their day.

Weather in the Northwest part of St. Helens has turned soggy. The first few days it was a welcome relief from the incessant sunshine. The downside of this sudden shift from hot to chilly and wet resulted in the dreaded humidity similar to that found in Virginia this time of year. It’s brutal and soaks ones clothes with prodigious amounts of bodily fluids making them extremely difficult to remove in a hurry. This is a problem for older humans and generally ends in frustration and warm wet pants.

The rock wall, constructed by this abodes previous owner, that separates our property from the neighbors, is in a pile this morning. That’s because I knocked it down yesterday, deeming it a hazard to the your people now living next door. Now it must be replaced with something a little sturdier as the neighbors also have a new puppy named Trigger that is destined to grow into a very large dog. At this time, however, he cowers from 6 lb Ozzie who herded Trigger into a small basket full of sidewalk chalk on our back porch. No doubt he’ll remember this insult and seek resolution in the future.

Yesterday afternoon the new neighbor, Whitney, came to the house with her laptop seeking assistance to transfer her sacred files from the laptop to an external drive. The transfer was made and training was imparted to allow the owner the option of performing this feat in the comfort of her own home. During the process she was introduced to Diane’s favorite wine, muscato, which tastes a lot like really good cool aid.

JUST IN — from one of our nearby relatives, Jennifer, who reported that St. Helens High School is being evacuated and all the students are being sent to the school stadium where they were instructed to sit in alphabetical order with their first period class. Though nerve-wracking, it appears to us that a drill is being conducted in the same way we used to do it on ships at sea when one person is pulled aside, and sequestered, while teachers and administration staff attempt to determine who it is. Generally this drill is conducted at sea when someone falls over board and it is important to know who it is. Hopefully no one at the school has been injured. We just learned that the students are being bussed to a nearby village and whatever the threat is, it is apparently a real issue. Still sounds like authorities are looking for someone.

UPDATE – according to KOIN Channel 6 news, authorities suspect there are explosives in the school. Not good.

For Sale …

On the lighter side, I am in custody of some raffle tickets being sold by American Legion Post 42. The winner get an AR-15 sports rifle. Second and Third place winners will receive a monetary prize. The drawing will be on November 11th at 11:11 a.m. at the Veteran’s Memorial in McCormick Park, St. Helens. Tickets cost $10 each with a maximum of 500 being sold. if you want one, let me know.

I also have a 1968 Chevrolet C-20, fleetside, long bed, 2-wheel drive pickup for sale. It is powered by a 1973 Corvette 454 BBC bored over to 462 that has an RV cam installed and is capable of towing a fairly large house. Asking $2500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

There is also a Class A 1979 Winnebago Brave for sale at this location. It’s road ready and needs only a bit of attention to replace a cabinet above the cab area up front. It’s a steal at $1500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

Now I must quit and ponder what’s going on at the school with our grandchildren …

Weather, Food, & Gout (again)

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This afternoon it was brought to my attention that I haven’t posted anything for a while. I actually knew that, but I didn’t realize it had been eight days.

Wow! Eight days! Who knew I could go that long without adding a post? I can only believe that I’m either slowing down, or my dementia is acting up, making me forget things a little more than normal. Whatever the reason, I’m back for a moment, and this one’s for you, Linda.

So, what’s been going on lately besides a lot of horrible weather everywhere except Oregon. We’ve been blessed with some excellent days. There was a day or two last week when we got caught in a downpour while driving, but normally it’s sunny and warm every day and cool at night. The downpour was terrible – we got hit by around 150 drops of rain and even had to use the windshield wipers once. I counted the drops so I know it’s true.

Now, what’s been going on? Is it ISIS or ISIL? I’m confused.

Last Sunday we partook of the Safeway Deli Chinese food selections, which we do quite frequently. It’s good food. Since I was sent to buy the meal, without complicated instructions, I chose a shrimp dish for me and the standard orange chicken for Diane and Mom. Oddly, there were more shrimp in that little bucket than I could eat at one sitting so I save the remainder for another meal. I think it was all saved until Tuesday when I finished it off. I knew it was a daring thing to do since I have the ability to contract gout and the reason is typically shellfish, but I had to have it. You know?

I don’t remember what happened on Monday, but think I may have finished painting the house. I’m not sure, but the painting got finished at some point during the week. Wednesday I went golfing with the Peal brothers. Like normal, I golfed badly and had a great time. I think Doug told me I hit the ball something like 60 times as we wandered around the nine holes. I actually hit it more than that, and it wasn’t always the same ball, but didn’t tell Doug so the extras didn’t make it to the score card. The rules we use consider that a legal tactic. Also, when anyone gets into double-digits on any given hole, who really cares?

Thursday Diane thought it might be a good idea to eat the container of Dungeness crab we had in the refrigerator since it was about to expire and crab doesn’t taste too good after it expires. So, we had home-made crab Louie’s, one of our favorite meals. We just love those things. We ate the crab knowing full-well that I was flirting with gout but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone.

Friday afternoon my right big toe woke up and let me know that it was aware I’d eaten shrimp AND crab during the week and it had no choice but to punish me for it. Saturday morning, when I was supposed to be helping my American Legion brothers at the Scappoose Sauerkraut Festival, my right big toe had other plans. Foremost was it’s decree that I would not be allowed to stand, or walk, without a great deal of pain. Consequently, I did neither all day long. I just sat around all day dreading bedtime. As if to prove a point, my toe chose to keep me awake most of the night with sharp, life-threatening, shooting pains all the way up my leg. It was brutal and forced me out of bed.

Retreating to my favorite spot for morning naps, it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t going to be safe anywhere. Then I went to the Man Room and sat in my computer chair, draping my foot on the arm of the couch. For safety, and because I’m afraid of the dark, I turned on the tiny little lamp next to my computer. About 10 minutes after doing that Diane wandered in and turned it off, not realizing I was sitting about 3 inches from her. She commented that the light woke her up and she went back to bed. I found this interesting because our bedroom is down a long hall and around a couple of corners from the Man Room, so that little light isn’t very noticeable.

But, to preserve the peace, I left the light off and returned to my napping place. In the end, I draped a cool washcloth over my foot and just closed my eyes. It seemed to work because I drifted off, waking only when Diane brought the dogs out for their morning sojourn into the yard to relieve themselves. We prefer they do that outside and they don’t mind.

This morning, Diane went to church with her Mom, leaving me home alone to suffer in silence. I considered a nap, but didn’t want to take a chance of alerting the toe to my improving health. I’m sure it knew, but didn’t want to take a chance by making a big deal of it. After church Diane called to warn me that she was bringing a couple of church ladies home with her, so I could provide some iPad instructions, and insisted that I exit my jammies and put on some underwear. I briefly considered wearing nothing but underwear but decided I didn’t have enough money to pay a lawyer for the divorce that surely would have happened had I done that. Instead, I put on one of my dress up T-shirts and a pair of shorts in addition to the underwear. It was a prudent thing to do, as it turns out.

Now it’s evening, Sunday Night Football is starting so it must be time to quit.

Hope all is well with all of you wherever you may be.

Camp Tadmor, Ducks, and Beavers

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While writing this, I’m exercising my tiny little brain with a rare attempt at multi-tasking. I don’t try this often because I’ve been trained since birth to believe that only women can do it. With advanced age my thinking processes became muddled, giving me the ability to believe that the “Only Women Can Multi-task” myth was, well, a myth. Over the years this belief freed my brain to accept unexpected multi-tasking opportunities as a chance to dispel the myth thereby giving hope to men, all over the world, that they, too, can do more than one thing at a time.

Sadly, our (a man’s) ability to multi-task is compared to chewing gum and walking, more often than not – as in, we can’t do both at the same time. I beg to differ because I do that quite often. The trick is to chew in time to your cadence which, incidentally, isn’t really an option. It just happens. Still, we can do it. As it happens, I can also be finishing up an email response and begin a conversation at the same time. I have to admit, however, that this particular talent might be considered with a skeptical eye because my hands are like little computers in their down right. I download about thirty words to them at a time so it’s really easy to begin a conversation while my fingers simply empty their buffers.  Diane, my lovely bride, has made it clear that not all the downloads to my fingers make sense, but that’s not the point. To the casual observer, I’m still doing two things at the same time. As I type, at this moment, I’m watching the Oregon Ducks vs. Michigan State Spartans football game that was played last Saturday. Even though I know the outcome, it’s fun to watch and it gives me another opportunity to do two things a once. See? I don’t believe I need the ability to do more than those two things at the same time to substantiate the afore-mentioned myth. I suspect there will be more than one person who disagrees with this belief, but I’m willing to go out on a ledge here and add that they will all, most likely, be of the feminine persuasion.

Now that I’ve got this thought process well under way, I’m going to switch gears and get to the meat of this particular posting … why I’m watching a recording of the Ducks/Spartans game. That’s because I wasn’t home, and where I was didn’t afford me the opportunity to watch the game live.

I was a long way from home, with Daniel, Cedric, and Jeran at a Men’s Roundup at Camp Tadmor near Lebanon, Oregon. That’s south of us about 2.5 hours down I-5. Daniel drove which was a good thing because I’d never have made it that far. The reason, or course, is because I’m not conditioned to drive long distances like Diane is. Actually, it’s not really about conditioning. it’s all about permission. Just saying.

Jeran and I rode in the third seat and had a real pleasant time. We talked, then he napped and I read part of my book. It was a good trip. It was an easy 2.5 hour trip for all of us because Cedric and Ben had a lively discussion in the middle seat, while Daniel and Pastor James did the same in the front seat.

Upon arrival at Camp Tadmor, early afternoon, we were directed to our designated camping area where everything was unloaded, and tents were erected. Being old, my camping experience was elevated from the ground to the couch in a nearby motor home with a toilet and running water. No sheets, just my sleeping bag on the couch and it was good.

Friday afternoon, before supper, Daniel and I attended our first break out session, “Transforming Fatherhood”, presented by Bill Clem. It was a good start. Directly after that we attended “Sexuality in an Equal Marriage Environment” presented by Dr. Gerry Bershears. It was quite revealing and taught me a lot about what the bible shares about sex. Unfortunately, I can’t share any of it with you because I’m not allowed to talk about sex. Diane said so.

After Dr. Bershears, we got in line with 1500 other men for our first meal of the weekend. Meals, as well as presentations, are what this retreat is famous for. The line went surprisingly fast due to the lively conversations going on all around us and we were soon assailed by the smell of BBQ chicken halves which were being cooked on four gigantic BBQ units. I mean gigantic in that each unit was about 4 feet wide and tall, by 8 feet long. The smoldering coals were suspended a couple of feet under the chicken on a tray and they were extremely hot. Each unit was absolutely covered with chicken and we were each, in turn, given our chicken right off the grill. I know there were side dishes, too, but can’t remember what they were. Beans and macaroni salad, I think. It was absolutely great and I ate it all.

Here are the grills and a peek at the awesome food line …

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Next on the agenda was the main event for the day at the Camp Tadmor Forum.

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The main event was opened by a Christian standup comic, Bob Smiley, a very humorous man. My favorite story was about when he was in the first grade and the teacher explained that students had to raise their hands if they had to go to the bathroom. He paused, then said, “No, actually, I don’t,” at which point he made the face of someone happy to be relieving themselves. Too funny.

After Bob’s opener we were treated to the first of four presentations by Paul Tripp, the feature speaker. Paul is a prolific author and an excellent speaker with a great message. He spoke Friday evening, Saturday morning & evening, and again Sunday morning. We went to all of them. Friday evening ended around midnight for us after a lively discussion near our abodes for the night. During the 3 hours we sat talking, a guy named  Trace Bundy was playing at one of the new areas above our camp site. Very soothing stuff.

Saturday morning I actually got up early enough to eat breakfast by enduring, once again, that enormous line of hungry campers. The rest of the morning was spent at a breakout by Josh Bidwell, ex-Oregon Duck punter, then Trace Bundy, that young man with an enormous talent and a powerful message, put on an incredible performance. Trace was absolutely amazing and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to hear him live and to shake his talented hand.

Saturday afternoon was spent doing manly kinds of things, like a race that included activities like swimming across the lake, crawling through a very large mud pit, running around the lake. I said manly but to put that into perspective, I must report that the young man who won the race was 17. Runners up were in the 30’s and the oldest to finish was 50. I did not compete because I wrenched my back climbing up some of the many steps installed throughout the woods, but it really wasn’t my fault.

Here’s what happened … I was heading back up to our camp site, minding my own business. About eight steps ahead of me an older guy, younger than me, tripped on the last step of the section I was about begin. He did a face-plant in the pine needles, spilling the coffee he was carrying. Being distracted by all that commotion, I didn’t step high enough and did my own face-plant on the stairs. The difference was that I wasn’t carrying anything to spill so was more able to avoid serious injury to my visible parts. On the way down I felt my back tweak a bit, then, just before impact, I wondered what all of those behind us thought about these two old guys ahead of them  doing tricks on the stairs. I wonder if they wondered if what happened to us was catching. To my credit, I quickly figured out how to regain a vertical stance and rushed up the stairs and was the first one to discover that the gentleman ahead of me was OK. His only concern was that he’d have to go back down the stairs to get another cup of coffee. I offered to get it for him but he declined. I think he did that because my hair’s white and his wasn’t.

Saturday’s dinner consisted of an enormous New York cut BBQ steak and a few other things that almost fit on the plate. I did good and ate every bit of it. Without ketchup. Just straight off the grill.

The evening service was opened by another Christian artist, Chris August. He had some great stories and was very enjoyable to hear. Afterward, we returned to our camp area and once again sat around and talked until after midnight. Stimulating stuff.

Sunday I got up a little later and made it to breakfast as one of the last ones to arrive. There was no line so it was extra special. Then it was more sessions, the final Paul Tripp sermon and lunch before packing up for the trip home. Though I had a good time, I felt out of my element because Diane wasn’t with me. We’re always together and it just didn’t feel right to be doing something without her. It was actually good for both of us because she got to spend girl time with Jennifer and Lydia while we boys did “manly stuff”.

I must report that at the end of one meal, I don’t remember which one, I turned to find dousing Roger staring at me. It was such a total surprise. He was there with son John, and son-in-law David. We had a nice talk, and agreed that we need to do the “family thing” again soon. I never saw them again though I looked everywhere. Considering the venue, I can only believe that chance meeting must have happened for a reason. I can’t wait to find out what it is.

Now we’re all home safe, I got to sleep in my bed last night, and Diane made me take the day off from working to let my back heal. The only thing I had to do was help get Ozzie to the vet by 0730 to get his teeth cleaned. His breath has been pretty disgusting for a while so we thought it would be a good idea. He stayed until after 1500 this afternoon. While waiting, I was allowed to watch the Ducks and Beavers play their football games because Diane recorded them on the DVR for me. The #3 Ducks played the #7 Michigan State Spartans and it looked like #3 was going to fall until they took over in the 4th quarter and scored the last 28 points ending it at 46-27.
As a result they moved up to #2 in the nation.

The Oregon State Beavers beat Hawaii in the second game. I have to admit that I wasn’t as engaged in that game as I was with the Ducks. I think it’s all because of the uniforms. The Ducks are awesome.

Now I must sleep but, first, I must show you my steak …

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Matthew 15:20 & Family

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It’s been six (6), count them, ess-i-ex days since my last entry and I fear that I won’t be able to fill you all in on what’s been going on. Actually, it’s not important that I do. What’s foremost in my mind is to relate a bit about what I learned in church last week. It’s something that I, and every other little kid in the world has griped about when it comes time to eat. Not just a meal, but pretty much anything. It’s about washing first.

According to Matthew 15:20, by my interpretation, it’s OK to eat with dirty hands.

…19“For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, slanders. 20“These are the things which defile the man; but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile the man.”

I know, most of you will disagree and side with Cedric who told me, when I pointed this out, that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” That’s an old saying that my research could not attribute to a biblical passage so it doesn’t count.

Logic dictates that washing ones hands before touching food you about to consume is the right thing to do, and I will readily admit that my interpretation of Matthew 15:20 is suspect, but when Diane read the lesson to our congregation last Sunday I kinda stopped listening. The reason, of course, was because I had to find a pencil so I could underline it for future reference. Then I folded it up and put in my pocket. I viewed it as validation that I didn’t really have to wash in order to eat.

I do, however, have to wash before opening the refrigerator, or any packaged food that others may wish to access after me. That’s a “Diane Rule” that everyone in the family knows. Even me. Therefore, unless I want to eat only food that falls on the floor, I’ll be washing my hands.

Besides, I’m not up to arguing with the dogs about floor food. It’s always been there’s in the past and I see no reason to change that unless it’s something they shouldn’t eat. Like chocolate. Or a newly warmed hot dog.

Just for fun, here’s Webster’s definition of “defile” …

Definition of DEFILE

transitive verb

:  to make unclean or impure: as

 

a :  to corrupt the purity or perfection of :  debase <the countryside defiled by billboards>

b :  to violate the chastity of :  deflower

c :  to make physically unclean especially with something unpleasant or contaminating <boots defiled with blood>

d :  to violate the sanctity of :  desecrate <defile a sanctuary>

e :  sully, dishonor

— de·file·ment  noun
— de·fil·er  noun
 
 
Like all my multiple choice answers, I choose “C” as the correct definition of defile.

Now, on to something more interesting …

Yesterday Jack, Wynette, Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran returned home after a long absence. J & W from Arizona, where they attended the marriage of grandson Brian to the lovely Annie, and the Walters Clan from Las Vegas where they spent a week of well earned vacation time. Everyone had a good time and brought home lots of photos to prove it. We just haven’t seen all of them, yet.

Also, Jeff brought Gilligan and Baylee up for a visit which is always fun. The latter two spent their time running all over the house making all kinds of happy kid noises which is something we enjoy.

All of the kids are gearing up for school which starts next week. Gilligan will be a First Grader, and Baylee will be going to pre-school. Cedric will be a Junior, Lydia a Sophomore, and Jeran a Freshman. I think Gilligan’s & Baylee’s niece, Danyell, will also be a First Grader. So, we’ll have six Grand, and Great Grand Kids attending St. Helens public schools this year. Can’t wait to see how it all goes.

Merc Returns Safely From Camp Tadmor!

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Merc, his camp name, aka Cedric, was retrieved from Camp Tadmor yesterday afternoon after spending two months living in the wild eating bugs and wild berries, and feral rats as a member of a group of super heroes who monitor camping activities of hundreds of younger, severely advanced members of homo erectus from all over the world. He slept on the ground, without benefit of blanket or pillow, and has permanent dents in his sides and back that look a lot like pine cones, small rocks, large bugs, mice, birds, and other debris that typically litter the forest floor of this camp located a bit SE of Lebanon, Oregon. There’s talk about having these impressions tattooed to ensure he retains the memory on the off-chance they fade over time.

Diane, her Mom, Jean, and I traversed the harrowing I-5 corridor from Portland, artfully dodging drivers from neighboring states, who are apparently allowed to disregard some pretty basic driving laws,  to retrieve Merc from the tenacious clutches of his fellow campers and counselors so he could be returned to civilization to prepare for his Junior year of High School.

On the trip down, the Buick’s A/C decided to go on the fritz making the vehicle interior a bit uncomfortable in the near-90 degree heat, but we persevered and arrived safely. When we arrived we visited with some adults who are part of the camp’s permanent crew, one of which was Ruby who is about 1. Very cute. With dimples. She looked at me in a ho-hum manner but lit right up with a big smile when Diane sauntered over. We suspect it was because of her natural affinity to like anyone who looks like a Grandma.

We didn’t have to wait long for the tour bus to arrive, bringing the campers back from their 2-day trip to Sisters, Oregon where they were encouraged to frolic in a river. Each person was given a bar of soap prior to the raft trip which they used to scrub away two months of grime they had accumulated as there are no showers at the camp and they aren’t allowed to contaminate the local streams in an effort to remain shiny.

As they exited the bus, it was readily evident that each of them had experienced a profound event, made life-long friendships, and were a bit sad to be leaving. But, leave they must. First, however, it was apparently mandatory that all of the girls who attended had to hug Merc. They lined up in two rows and waited their turn for a short time, then they all flocked to him leaving us only a small glimpse of the baseball had he was wearing. We had to pry the last three girls off him so we could get him to the Buick and begin the trip home. One of the girls broke down and sobbed. It was very touching, but Merc’s family was waiting for his return back in St. Helens and we had to go. He understood the need, as did the sobbing girl.

The trip home, for Merc, was filled with a constant stream of text messages with those he had just left, as well as all his family at home. His phone was DOA at the beginning of the trip, but i just happened to have a charger which we hooked up so he could get busy with his texting.

I don’t think he quit smiling during the entire 2.5 hour trip home.

When we arrived, he was greeted in the driveway by his Mom, Jennifer, Dad, Daniel, Sister, Lydia, and brother, Jeran. We stood around visiting for a few minutes before he went into the house where he discovered that about 10 of his friends had gathered to welcome him home. It was a touching scene, replacing his recent sense of loss with one of incredible gain.

It was a great day.

Sadly, I do not have any photos of either the departure or arrival home, but I do have one of Merc in a truck that a group of his fellow campers liberated it from a local farmer who inadvertently left it in his corn field from which the group was gathering food for one of their meals.

SCAN0002Cedric is wearing the blue shirt, just behind the cab of the pickup.

No doubt you have all guessed that the foregoing narrative, with the exception of the touchy-feely aspects of the camp departure, and home arrival, are pure gibberish. Lot’s of it is true, but most of it isn’t.

Camp Tadmor is a Christian camp where most of the activities I related are discouraged. It’s a great place, actually. It’s all about caring for one another and getting in touch with ones inner self. Cedric has returned to us with a far more confident outlook and a more firm direction on where his life will go. We’re proud of his efforts and of the fine young man he is.

After he shaves his face, he will be perfect.

Cars & Soccer

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This morning Diane let me sleep in which was awfully nice of her. Totally out of character, but she chose to leave the house early to help Jennifer with a pressing task, and just wasn’t there to tell me what time it was. Since she let the dogs out when she got up, they thought everything was cool, and kept quiet. So, I got an extra 4 hours sleep. It was awesome.

Shortly after arising, I received a call from our friend, Jerry 1, who had driven his custom vehicle to the car and airplane show at the Scappoose airport. Since I hadn’t seen him for a while, I was allowed to go but had strict instructions about being home in time to leave for Astoria for Lydia’s soccer tournament which started at 1300. So, I only had about 30 minutes to spend at the car show. Here’s what I saw there …

Mr. Miagi from “Karate Kid” … it’s really Jerry #1.

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A really nice pickup …

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With a really nice interior …

DSC_2011With a dash just like mine …

DSC_2010Except mine isn’t shiny like this one … (sigh) …

Then we drove to Astoria, arriving late, but before half time, of Lydia’s first game. I’ve mentioned previously that she’s a goalie and today she spent a lot of time during the first game doing this …

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… because her team kept the ball at the other end of the field most of the game making the other goalie do stuff like this …DSC_2046

Lydia’s team won 5-0.

The second game got Lydia off her feet more than once, doing stuff like this …DSC_2101The ball was almost always being kicked around in front of her goal, but none of them got past her. The one in the above photo went off her little fingers, right over the net. Here’s proof in the photo taken approximately 1/4 of a second after the first photo …

DSC_2102Actually, it was exactly 1/4 second after the first photo. I know this stuff because I read it in the manual for the camera.

That’s a lie. I only knew it because I heard somewhere that my camera can take 4 photos a second. I didn’t read the manual.

Yet.

Due to Lydia’s hard work, and the excellent team work, the game ended 0-0. It was fun to watch. Really, it was.

After the second game, one of the referees came over to us while we were talking with Lydia, and told her she did a great job. He’s originally from Germany, he said, and is a goalie coach somewhere in the Portland area. Apparently he was giving her tips during the game. He showed us the place where half the teeth on his right side were missing, explaining that he left them on a soccer field in Heidelberg when he was 16. He’s much older than that now, or course.

We were all very proud of her efforts. She’s getting more aggressive and daring in her position.

After saying our goodbyes to everyone, we got in our car and drove home. Half way there we discovered Jeran was in the car and had a little panic attack until we remembered he was supposed to be there. He’s spending the night with us tonight and will go with us to Lebanon tomorrow afternoon to pick up Cedric from camp. He’ll be done tomorrow and will not be returning until next year.

On the drive home we stopped at Burger King for a sandwich and something to drink. I had a coke, something I rarely drink, and Jeran had two (2) very large root beers. Once back in the car we had some lively conversations that consisted mostly of stuff like this …

Jeran would tell me something, and I’d say, “not it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

There were variations on that theme, like “Yes he did,” “No he didn’t,” and “Yes she was,” “No she wasn’t”. With the help of Jeran’s infusion of too much sugar, and my caffeine, we were able to keep this up for many, many miles. Finally, Diane threatened to pull the car over and beat us up if we didn’t stop, so we did. Mostly. One would sneak out once in a while, but not in a repetitive manner.

It was fun. We all laughed.

Then I fell asleep and all the sudden we were home.

Now it’s time for bed, so, g’nite.

Oh wait! I almost forgot! Here’s Beth’s foot … Beth’s daughter plays with Lydia.

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Nicks & Dings

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This morning, after visiting my doctor, where I was directed to provide urine and blood, I came home and worked a bit on some picture frames Diane brought home. She got them for the glass to cover some photos we purchased somewhere. One of the glass panes fit, the other one didn’t so the search much continue which doesn’t bother her at all.

During this evolution I decided to stab myself with a flat blade screwdriver, which I was using to pry out staples, and press in retainers for the one frame in which the glass fit. I pushed too hard, the blade slipped, and the blade went right in to the palm side base of my left pointing finger. It hurt a great deal causing me to clench my fist, and my teeth, for a bit as I danced around in the kitchen with my hand-held high to impede the flow of blood to a potentially fatal wound.

After a while, Diane asked, “Is it bleeding.”

With my fist still clenched I looked at the back of my hand and couldn’t find an exit wound, or blood, so responded, “I don’t know.”

“Hold your hand over the sink and look,” she said, so I did.

I opened my hand slowly so I could avoid the spurting blood that must surely be waiting because of the incredible amount of pain it caused, but nothing happened. There was only a tiny little spot where the blade broke some skin. It was disappointing. I can only believe that my lightning fast reflexes saved the day by staunching the flow, and minimized the size of the wound, before it could fully manifest. I attribute this to years of experience with such things.

We retreated to the bathroom, where the band aids are, so Diane could try out a new one she’s been holding for a while. It’s made for knuckles, but it worked perfectly to cover the little wound on the inside of my pointer.

As I was lamenting the disparity of pain to results ratio, for damage that didn’t even bleed, Diane said, “you should be proud of me.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t laugh.”

Then she laughed.

So did I.

Good News, Bad News, & Hotness

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Those of you who know me, or have read the frivolous things I’ve written about, understand I’m not the guy who routinely goes down a serious road. I work more on the positive side of life because I like it better there. It’s more fun and, I hope, provides an opportunity for you to join me there, for a moment, and find a reason to smile. I have no other motive. It’s really that simple. I’m here to counteract just a little bit of the negative aspects of living on planet Earth, deflecting them into outer space, replacing them with happy thoughts.

For just a moment …

It’s brief, I know, and won’t last, because I’m just one old guy pecking away on his computer, trying his best to get along. In order for efforts like mine to make even a tiny impact on anything, we’d need a really large herd of old guys with metaphorical peckers like mine, doing what I do. Better yet, a really large herd of girls and guys, young or old.

I share that bit of information because of recent events in Ferguson, a suburb of St. Louis, that hit home for some reason. I’m sure most everyone in the USA has seen something on the news about this. What happened isn’t unique, but it’s still very sad and far more satisfying for news folks to share than the 100’s of good things that no doubt happened in that same neighborhood, before and after the reported event.

What kind of response would you expect for a newspaper, or newsletter, that reported only good events and things? I thought I might take a stab at culling the internet for happy “stuff” and make a newsletter to share all of it. But, gee!, it’s already been done.

Check out these links.

Good News … Happy News … Positive News … Amazing News

Kinda makes the world a better place, doesn’t it?

On a more personal note, I must report that I’ve been trapped in the house for the last few days because of the weather. Diane won’t let me go outside to work because it’s too hot and she doesn’t think she could drag me back inside before I melt if I were to pass out. So, I’m stuck in the house until the temps drop back into the low 70’s. That means I’m going to get a fairly long vacation and won’t be able to go outside to take care of some waterproofing issues until it starts to rain. Makes sense, right?

Now I’m going to watch TV for a while. Not news.