Garage Doors, Microwaves, Diabetes, Pintrest, Movies, & Soccer

Yesterday I played indoors working on the fireplace mantle. It snowed and showered us with freezing rain so I wasn’t allowed to go outside. I was happy about that because it was really cold.

Today was really beautiful – clear and sunny, but still cold. Like 9 degrees or so. I worked some more on the mantle, and we ate lunch of BLTs made with refried bacon. It’s a new treat. Diane found the cooked bacon in the back of the fridge and, since it wasn’t fuzzy, tossed it in a skillet to warm it up. Turns our even refried bacon is good. I guess that shouldn’t surprise me because bacon bits are good. I put them in pretty much everything I eat, except ice cream.

When trying to leave the house, the garage door went TU again. Guess I don’t know how to fix them after all so, at Diane’s urging, I call Metro Overhead Door. They’ll be here next Tuesday.

Went to church to ensure the movie would play for tonight’s event. It was in B&W until I put the video cable in the yellow Jack instead of the green one. Don’t know how long it’s been that way. Before doing that, we went to Columbia Heating in Scappoose to get furnace filters for the church. There weren’t any and the one in use was horribly dirty.

Sadly, I’ve discovered there are things on Pintrest that interest me. Now I have my very own page. As soon as I saved it people started following me which I think is pretty funny because at the time there was only one things there. Now I have one more thing to keep me occupied in my copious free time. I started putting fun projects ideas on it and figure I could do that every day instead of actually doing any of them.

My VA doctor has decided to punish me by making me attend a diabetes class because my A1C is too high. I went to one a long time ago and they gave me a BS Meter and everything. I used to check my BS level once or twice a day and it was always OK so I started checking once a week. That was OK, too. Well, not all the time, but it gave me enough info that I could do something about it with my bad eating habits. Finally, from lack of use I suppose, the meter kind of disappeared. I believe it just up and left the house one day in search of someone who needed it more than I did at the time. Now I’ll go to class and get another one.

We had movie night at the church this evening and Diane & I hosted it with a showing of “Heaven Is For Real.” It’s a good movie. We’ve seen it twice. We don’t see many movies twice. Lot’s of times Diane only sees half a movie so I guess watching this one twice may only count as one viewing. We were at the theater the first time, though, and I’m pretty sure she was awake the entire time. Jeran went with us.

Lydia got all her hair whacked off and now looks like this …

IMG_1058She tried out for a travelling soccer team in Hillsboro so she could extend her playing time and was chosen to join. She’s going to be the only goalie on the team. Being on the league team will get her goalie training that’s not available from the high school coaches. From their perspective, the objective is to keep the ball away from their goal so the goalie won’t have anything to do. If the other team gets by them, then the goalie is pretty much on their own to figure out how to keep the ball out of the net. She finds that a bit frustrating, so this will be good for her.

Now it’s time for bed.

Bacon Bits Rock

Tonight I made the most incredible spaghetti ever.

It was both delicious and exciting.

The delicious part was obtained by adding a large handful of Kirkland Bacon Bits to a normally routine rendition of Ragu Spaghetti sauce. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time now, but keep forgetting. Then, earlier today, I stripped the meat from the remains of a dead roasted Kirkland chicken, purchased more than a few days ago, shredded part of it, added some mayo and other things, and called it Chicken Salad. I also added Kirkland Bacon Bits to the mix which made it more than perfect. Really. The flavor combination ensured that anything I may have added was pretty much irrelevant. All I confirmed with this discovery, as I’m sure all of you already knew, that if you add enough bacon to anything, even cake, you can’t go wrong.

So, I added more than enough to the Ragu.

The exciting part came when I sat down in my recliner and almost got my tray to my lap before it tipped just enough to allow the bowl, into which I placed my spaghetti and sauce, to keep it from spilling, slid off my tray in slow motion, and landed upside down on my stretched out legs. They were stretched out because I was in the reclining position.

Needless to say, Diane was less than pleased. She kept repeating, “Oh my God, look what you’ve done!” and, “I can’t believe you just did that!”, and “Don’t move!” These instructions were issued by a semi-hysterical lady who had a more detailed view of the damage than I did. All I saw was an empty bowl laying on my spaghetti-stained pajama-clad legs. Intuitively I knew there was a big mess in front of my chair, and a bit on Diane’s favorite carpet.

The dogs were, of course, delighted and had a hard time waiting to help solve the cleanup problem. We all maintained our positions, obeying the “don’t move” order, while Diane went to the kitchen to fetch a plate so she could salvage the remains of my supper. I ate it without a thought as I’ve eaten many other things that I’ve found on the floor.

The dog’s efforts confirmed my wisdom in adding bacon bits to the sauce.

Weather, Food, & Gout (again)

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

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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Manual Labor & Uranus

Hi! It’s been a while and I’m sure everyone has been wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. About all I can tell you, without crossing that fine line separating from … well … make-believe, is that I woke up in my own bed this morning with no memory of what transpired since the 18th. Consequently, what you about to read, should you choose to do so, is probably a complete fabrication.

Last Tuesday I spent part of the day recovering from a little computer work I did for Roberta, one of Wynette’s classmates from High School. I did that work on Monday and it’s something I haven’t done for a while so it made my brain tired.

During Tuesday afternoon I spent my time moving rocks and dirt from the side yard, by the garage, to various other places on the property. I know that’s all true because I can see where rocks and dirt are missing, and I can see where other places have more than they used to. The following days it is apparent that I continued this behavior, all the way through yesterday, except for the side trips we took to look at cars because Diane wants a new one. Not a NEW new one, but an OLD new one. Specifically, what she wants is a 2005 PT Cruiser GT convertible just like Nancy’s, but different. Diane wants a white one with a tan top. Like this …

02

If you see one for sale, wherever you are, please let whoever owns it that Diane  wants it. Or, you can send her the contact info at d.j.cate@hotmail.com.

Besides all that work, and shopping for cars, we also had an opportunity to meet and get to know our new neighbors. They are: Scott, Whitney, Kye, Brooklyn, and Taylor (the dog). I’m sure I misspelled Kye’s name, but she’s a cute 3-years-old. Her younger sister is 1.5, or so. A very nice young family happy to be out of Hillsboro. Good neighbors. So far.

I think there was a moment of lucidity in the last few days where I called Scappoose Sand & Gravel and ordered a few yards of driveway gravel which explains the reason I moved so much dirt and gravel from the space that’s destined to received the new, clean gravel. It’s my understanding that it will be delivered on September 2nd. We’ll see how that works out. Once it’s delivered I’ll have to expend some manual labor to spread it out. Either that, or rent a really big power tool.

Outside the lucid moments I’m sure I made a couple of trips to Uranus. Something like that. I’m guessing, but it’s based on the fact that I mysteriously have a brand new roll of toilet paper in my bathroom where the last I knew it was half gone. So, it’s for sure got something to do with an anus of some sort. Probably mine. I’m not sure. I also have an injury on my chin that was, I sense, caused by an unprovoked attack by a piece of fencing I moved. There’s also a rhododendron injury beneath my left breast area that is pretty sore. I know it’s from a rhododendron because I’ve had them before. There’s no logical reason for me to suspect the fence for my chin injury but whenever I look at it I’m forced to cringe. So, it’s got to be guilty.

Today was a normal Sunday in many ways. Specifically, we got up and went to church. Then, instead of dropping by the Kozy Korner for lunch, Diane drove us to the Sizzler in Longview, Washington. She apparently read my mind because I’ve been hankering for a piece of dead cow and Sizzler is the best place to get some of that for a decent price. Diane’s Mom, Jean, had the salad bar, Diane had the chicken Malibu, and I had the 6 oz steak, all you can eat shrimp, and the salad bar. I was also hankering for some dead shrimp, so it worked out great. When it was all said and done, I’d consumed the steady, 45 shrimp, 3 pieces of dead chicken, a baked potato, and a soup bowl of ice cream. When eating at any establishment that allows you to serve your own ice cream, always use the soup bowls instead of those tiny little cups they provide. They have handles and they hold more ice cream.

Now it’s almost evening and I’m stuck in my recliner where I intend to stay until it’s time for bed. That will be in about 4 hours. We’ll be watching re-runs of “Big Bang Theory” until then. We’re halfway through season 3.

Cars & Soccer

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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Jean’s Birthday, Rocks, & Golf

Today Eleanor Jean, Diane’s Mom, reluctantly celebrated her 87th birthday. I say “reluctantly” because she doesn’t find it necessary to celebrate “just another day.” We do, however, so took her out to dinner at Dockside in St. Helens. It’s interesting that the Dockside is an Italian food restaurant, not a seafood joint. And, it’s right on the Columbia River near where the best Salmon in the world give up their annual upstream battle through the thousands of fish hooks. You’d think they’d have salmon, wouldn’t you? They may, sometimes, but the fare is mainly steak and pasta with some token shrimp and chicken parts thrown in for added flavor.

At dinner were Daniel, Jeran, Diane, Lydia, Grams (Jean), Me, and Jennifer. Daniel is a staunch vegan so had a fancy salad; Jeran had ravioli’ Diane and Jean had Lasagna; Jennifer had fettucine alfredo; I and Lydia had carbonara. Carbonara is my absolute favorite Italian dish. Lydia, I learned, knows how to make it, but she’s never offered to come over and cook some for me.

It was a good end to a long day and we all enjoyed the food and the time we had together, visiting. Gathering for these occasions is important to us because it helps us rekindle the family spirit.

Unlike yesterday, and the day before, where I shoveled and moved a couple tons of rocks, today was spent in the church parking lot surrounded by many things we no longer wanted with a sincere hope that someone else would find a need to relieve us of ownership. It was a Parking Lot Sale to help raise funds for the church in an effort to keep the lights on, and a phone with a dial tone. Not many church folks participated in selling things, but lots of folks took the time to stop by for a peek at all the wondrous “stuff”. We were only actively open for 4 hours, 5 counting the early bird yard salers who can’t tell time. The tough part was unloading everything and stacking them neatly on the really heavy church tables I was forced to removed from the basement. After yesterday’s activity with a pick and shovel, moving the tables was brutal. I had help, but it was still brutal. Consequently, my left arm is only useable with a great deal of pain from the middle of my bicep to my wrist. Odd, I know, but that’s just the way it is. I’m not worried because I know it will go away.

Until tomorrow, when we go back for another 5 hours, then have to replace all the tables back in the basement. It will actually be easier to put them back because the stairs are carpeted allowing the tables to slide down quite nicely. Getting them to the stairs is the hard part.

I get a reprieve between 1000 and 1300 when I’ll go help some fellow Lions reattach newly cleaned flags to newly cleaned poles. It’s a project I’ve not had the pleasure of participating in before. These are the flags that we place in holes on the main blvds in town for all holidays. The holes are placed in front of all businesses that donate money to support the project. Everyone ponies up a donation because not having a flag in front of your business is an honor and when the one in front of your business is missing, everyone in town knows you didn’t help out. That’s a lie, of course. Once a hole is drilled in the sidewalk, it will always get a flag, and everyone is very generous with their support. It looks really nice to see all those flags fluttering in the breeze early in the morning.

Last Thursday I went golfing with Doug and JP. Oddly, I remembered most of the rules for golfing and had probably the best round of my checkered life. I had a 48 (for nine holes). Normally I’m in the 60’s, rarely in the 50’s. Getting it to 48 is beyond belief. On top of that, I beat both Doug and JP, something I’ve never ever done before. It was a good day. Then I came home a moved a bunch of rocks and dirt.

Though you don’t know it, just before starting this paragraph, there was a brief pause while I consoled the dogs and explained, once again, that it’s OK for deer to walk through the yard. We have a momma and a little speckled fawn that make regular trips around the neighbor hood eating all the flowers. They are quite popular, needless to say.

Now I must remove the rest of the grime from my body so I can contemplate bed in preparation for another early morning assault on the unsuspecting yard salers of Columbia County. At 1300 tomorrow all that remains will be placed in the church carport, where it will all languish, waiting for the Senior Center Thrift Store truck to show up and cart it all away. Forever. We hope.

Hope everyone had a great day.

Highway 30 Cruisers, & a Reunion

Yesterday Diane took her Mom, Jean, shopping for groceries at Fred Meyer in Scappoose. On the way, Diane suggested that I go see what’s happening at the car show being held at the Spring Meadows Old Folks Home, which is almost directly across Highway 30 from Freddies. Thinking I might enjoy that, vs. wandering around the store with no direction, I agreed and took over the driver’s seat after Diane and Mom exited the vehicle.

The car show was put on by the Highway 30 Cruisers, a local car club which I’ve been asked to join because I have an old 1968 Chevy truck. Since the truck isn’t a piece of work one would normally display at a car show I’ve been hesitant but after today, I’m not so sure.

“Why,” you may ask, to which I would respond, “because they have a show category right up my alley. It’s called “In Progress”, and here’s the winner for the show …

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There was a little history on the old truck explaining that the owner found the truck at the bottom of a lake where it had resided for many years. There was no mention of how it got there, or if he was the original owner, but, considering his age, I would venture to say it may have belonged to his grandfather, or someone in that age category. Neither was there any mention of what it took to render the truck drivable after draining all the water out of it, but I’d guess it wasn’t an easy process. The did report, however, that nothing has been done to the body since returning it to daylight, and a quick peek around the bottom of the doors indicates it has a serious rust issue going on. Mine doesn’t. So, I could enter mine in this category with confidence that I could at least get second place. Now all I have to do is get the transmission fixed, replace the flywheel, and have someone with more knowledge than me adjust the starter so it doesn’t break anything when engaged. Once there, I’ll join the club and share my good fortune as it  happens.

Here’s an old 50-something Chevy hardtop that was pretty nice. It’s an interesting color. I talked with the owner for a while, another old guy, as are all the folks who had their cars in the show. He gave me the history on the car, but I can’t remember what he told me. But, it was a nice visit.

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The next photo is of a card attached to the inside of the windshield of an old model A (I think) with a rumble seat. I’ve mentioned in the past, many times, I’m sure, that Mrs. Roney picked me up at school in one of these and drove me to her house for my piano lessons. She did that for five years, second through sixth grade. I always rode in the rumble seat. What fun. I don’t think anyone’s likely to ride in the rumble seat on this rig.
DSC_1927The next one is owned by an old friend, Gary, with whom I played drums in the high school band in 1961, or so. It’s a 1936 Plymouth in pristine condition. We had a good time in the back row of the band. When I got to his car I saw Spud & Leonna. That was odd, because Spud was a year ahead of me in high school and I inherited the #1 drummer position when he graduated, and there we were, three old Scappoose High School drummers. Small world, huh? Well, it’s not a large town so it’s not really unusual.DSC_1921

This Corvair belongs to Dave, one of my classmates from high school. Someone told me he had to push it to the show, but I later learned that was a bald-faced lie. He drove it there just fine. He’s married to Janice, one of Diane’s high school classmates.

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I’ve decided that I’m not going to do anything with the body of my truck, but I’ll do this under the hood. The only difference will be mine has a 454, not a 427. Should look nice in a rusty grey truck, don’t you think?DSC_1926As I wandered around, aimlessly, looking at the vehicles on display, I encountered one of Diane’s old boyfriends, Pinky, who still owes me $20 for a pair of chrome rims I sold him. I’ve been reminding him about that for the last 50 years, but he won’t pay me. I think they’re worth more now, but he says he no longer has them so it’s really a moot point because I can’t prove I sold them to him. I will, however, point out his failure to pay whenever I see him. We do, by the way, get along just fine. I just like to rub his fur the wrong way a little. Besides, I got Diane, he didn’t. Maybe he figures that took care of the $20 he owed me, but I don’t see it that way. I’d expand on that a little, but I see absolutely no way I can do so without digging this huge hole from which I would never exit. So, I’ll move along.

This morning we got up early and left the house at 0900 and headed for Big Eddy Park over by Vernonia on Highway 47. Jennifer, Daniel, Lydia, and Jeran spent the last few days there for their Church Camp, when we’ve attended in the past with them, and Daniel was delivering the message at their out-door church service in the park. We made it in plenty of time and really enjoyed the service. There was a lot of singing, a little praying, then Daniel gave us a sermon that was spot on. He explained how he had plenty of time to get his talk all written out, but he put it off in favor of other things … like TV, video games, books, etc. Suddenly, it was time to produce the goods and he wasn’t quite ready until he realized that his actions were the topic … about how we get sidetracked by mundane things instead of focusing on God and the wonders He provides. It was pretty perfect and we’re really proud of Daniel.

After the service we headed for the car while everyone else got in line for the potluck. It was best that we didn’t stay because while walking to the service from where we parked, next to Jennifer, I was carrying a jar of salsa. Jennifer was walking in front of me and just as we got to the table, the lid came off, like magic, and the motion of my swinging arm provided exactly the right momentum to expel a large amount of the salsa all over the back of Jennifer’s legs. It was a mess and I was properly embarrassed for a pretty short time, until another Jennifer got our Jennifer all wiped down, and I was able to kick dirt over the other remaining evidence of the mishap. It was completely innocent, but it’s something I will probably hear about for a long time. Not staying for the pot luck also ensured that we didn’t find it necessary to eat any of the remaining salsa, leaving more for others.

Our destination from Big Eddy was the old Trojan Nuclear facility just south of Rainier on Highway 30. That’s where the 2014 picnic was happening for the class of ’62. We do picnics every year so this was, in reality, our 53rd reunion. Trojan is where I worked for a couple of years for PGE right after getting out of the Navy in 1989, so it was familiar territory for me. I used to take care of all the computers for everyone there. All by myself. For two years. A daunting task for someone with no formal computer repair training. I figured it out, however, and managed to stick around with PGE for 21 years.

There were 25 classmates and many spouses at the reunion, so we had a great time visiting. Here’s what we looked like today …

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I’m in there somewhere. And, thanks to my handy little remote, I took this photo. We’re a pretty varied, and ambulatory group of old folks who are all pretty much 70 years old. Considering that we only had 99 in our graduating class, I think we’re hanging in there nicely.

Now, since i didn’t get to finish my morning nap, I’m going to bed.

Golf & Vegetables

I went golfing this morning with my friends Doug and Junior. Surprisingly, I did pretty good in addition to having a great time like I always do. Doing better than normal is a definite plus. I think I did better because I decided to make use of a bit of the golf information I’ve received over the last few decades. Those intricate instructions, to which every aspiring golfer has been exposed, are as varied as those who share them. The important ones are shared by everyone. Those would be:

  1. Keep your head down (I don’t because I need to see where the ball goes)
  2. Keep at least one eye on the ball (I go blind just before my club hits the ball, if it hits the ball)
  3. Keep your left arm straight (if you’re right-handed)
  4. Keep your knees flexed (I generally wind up on my toes because I try to swing so hard)
  5. Follow through (doing this is usually an afterthought for me)
  6. Never use a pink ball unless you’re a woman (I defy this one all the time)
  7. Always use orange balls in the winter (I use them all the time until I find some white ones)

There are a zillion other “rules” but I can’t remember them. Today I managed to remember the first five, most of the time.

Playing through the trees is, for me, part of the game. All golfers know that trees are 90% air so I just pretend they aren’t there. As a result, my handicap is 37. I’m one of only three people at the St. Helens Golf Club who has managed to maintain such a lofty handicap. It’s always fun when a ball goes into the trees because something besides the ball usually falls to the ground. Sometimes the ball just sails right through and winds up in a location far removed from where anyone would suspect. Other times we are entertained when the ball rattles around a bit on the trunks and branches, once in a while causing a branch of significance to tumble down. Today Doug hit the jackpot as far as nailing branches …

IMG_0083He didn’t really knock this one out of the tree but he hit the tree from which it fell, and his ball landed on it. So, in a way, that counts.

Now, about vegetables. Carrots, specifically. Until today I lived blissfully in a world where carrots were genderless. Then I was shocked right out of my socks when I went to help Diane make her black bean vegetable soup for tomorrow’s Community Meals at First Lutheran Church.

My job was to chop vegetables of various kinds so carrots had to be in the mix. One of the church ladies provided the carrots which she had recently plucked from the church garden next to the St. Helens Senior Center. Most of the carrots were your normal run of the genderless type.

Then I encountered these – two girls and a boy.

IMG_0934OK. It’s a MAN carrot, not a boy. Must be the dirt.

Noxious Weeds & Other Things

The first round of blackberries are ready for picking, so get your buckets and come help us get rid of them. No matter how vicious I am with the blackberry clippers, they grow back. So, we have a zillion of them. If you don’t like them for eating, it’s always fun to give them to little kids so they can smear them all over each other. That’s always fun.

IMG_0083These things are all over the place and they are very clingy when attacked. Long sleeves, long pants, hats, and leather gloves are a must unless you have are OK with pain and bleeding. The upside is, of course, they taste really good and make the challenge of picking them worth it.

My unsupervised forays into the wilderness surrounding our home have been limited due to the high temperatures we’ve been having. High for us, that is. It’s really only in the high 80’s and low 90’s, but gets into the 60’s at night so sleeping is wonderful. Since I generally don’t venture outside unless I have something important to do, like remove weeds, rake rocks, haul trees to the burn pile, stuff like that, I always wind up expelling huge amounts of moisture that must be replaced. I know this because my lovely bride makes it her mission to ensure I don’t run dry. She brings me large glasses of water on a regular basis, and I’ve learned that I can go get it all by myself, when I want, leaving her free to do more important things like cook dinner for me, or clean the house. You know, woman-type work. That sounds a bit sexist, I guess, but we have a relationship where I take care of things outside the house, and Diane takes care of things on the inside. She told me that once. It’s good to be king.

Having said that, I must share that Jeran would disagree – I’m not the king. Instead, Diane is the queen. He has no illusions about who’s in charge at my location. Neither do I, really. I just have lapses in common sense once in a while and think I’m the ruler. Diane will agree.

Diane just left to play bunco at a friend’s house, so I’m alone with the TV remote. It’s a rare event for me to have the remotes in our living room. The Man Room is where I’m free to change channels to my heart’s desire. Fortunately, Diane’s remote and my remote are just exactly alike so I know how to use it.

That’s what I’m going to do, right now. Just sit here and randomly change channels.

What fun.

Don’t forget those blackberries.