2013 – The End

I’m not going to bore everyone by sharing all the things that transpired over the past 364.75 days for a couple of reasons. 1) You’ve already heard about most of it if the news you watch chose to share it with you, and 2) I can’t possibly remember all of it. One thing I do remember is that everyone in St. Helens, except me, is sick on this last day of the year. It is my understanding that this epidemic is not restricted to my immediate area – folks on the East Coast have reported incidents too. I can understand that because they are ending the year with some pretty exciting weather events. We, here in St. Helens, cannot blame the weather for the ailments folks are experiencing. All we’ve had is cold weather. Not terribly cold, just cold for us. Maybe just chilly according to those who live in areas where the mercury drops well below zero degrees more often than not.

Nossir! I blame this outbreak on Little Kids because they sneeze on their hands, then wipe them, and their noses, on Real People most often while sharing a hug. I believe they are taught this trick in Little Kid School, which they attend when no one is looking, in order to make everyone taller than them ill enough to even the playing field when it comes time for cookies. They know, all of them, that a sick Real Person will give them anything they want if they just leave the RP alone. They will deny this, of course, because that’s what they’re taught to do at LKS.

At this point I must clarify the difference between LKs and RPs. LKs are mostly just potential epidemics on really short legs. RPs, by contrast, have longer legs but no longer have the ability to infect anyone with anything. I suppose that’s not entirely true, but that’s not pertinent. It’s kinda right, and that’s good enough for me.

Don’t get me wrong because I think Little Kids are awesome, even when their little noses are exuding a very salty mixture of puss and mucous all over their lips, which they end up wiping on their sleeves, because their tongues aren’t long enough. I can say this with authority because its one of the more memorable things I recall from my indentured servitude as a Little Kid. When I was a Little Kid, however, things were different. Now it snot.

When I started this, at 1958, it was my intention to terminate it at 2013. Though I could lie, and tell you I did it, I won’t. I don’t lie. I fabricate. It would have been neat, however, to bid you all adieu on 12/31 2013 at 2013. Now I can’t.

As I scribble, Diane is watching all the back episodes of Downton Abbey so she’ll be all up to speed for the premier which is going to happen soon. I kinda like the show, and have watched some of the last episodes with her, but when I start remembering what’s going to happen I need to quit because it’s no longer interesting to me. I will be watching the new season because I have no idea what’s going to happen, and I love the accents. My favorite person is Daisy who works in the kitchen. I think that’s her name. She’s the one who was going to marry William, I think, but he was killed in the war, or somewhere else. Now his father is teaching her to run the farm because he wants her to have it. Something like that.

We planned to visit Keizer, Oregon to bring in the New Year with some old Winnebago friends … no … friends who have old Winnebagos. When Diane came up very congested this morning, however, we nixed that trip, not wanting to contaminate anyone else. So far, I’m doing OK, in case you’re wondering.

Part of my evening was spent in the basement ripping my work bench apart. You may remember that I complained about it in an earlier blog and suggested that I might do this. Since we are sequestered for the night, I thought it might be a good time to continue that effort, so I did. The challenge was working around the electrical connections that were mounted in the front edge of the work surface. I just cut around them, leaving the rewiring effort for another day when I have company available to call 911, should it be necessary.

Here’s what it looks like down there now …

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This half of the workbench is going to be configured so I can sit in a chair and do “stuff”. The other half will be lower to the height of my table saw. I’ll just have to do something with all that wire. During this evolution I found an entire gallon of Liquid Nails so maybe I’ll just glue those 2×4’s against the back wall and call it good.

We hope everyone has a safe transition from 2013 to 2014. I won’t say that “I hope you all had a good year,” because you either did, or you didn’t. Me “hoping” you did won’t change that.

I can, however, “hope you all have a wonderful, safe, productive 2014. May you all win the lottery.”

Now it’s 2113 so I’ll stop.

Mabel Ahlf 1918-2013

Yesterday we honored Mabel’s 95 years on this mortal plane. She departed in the early afternoon on Christmas Day. The church was full and I learned many things about Mabel that I didn’t know. I attribute that to my lack of vision. The knowledge was there for the asking, but I didn’t ask. Instead, I formed my history of Mabel using bits and pieces of rumors I’ve heard over the years, and short snippets of stories shared by her family members, but never did I sit and talk with Mabel directly to talk about her life. That’s my loss. Had I done that she might have told me her past was none of my business, but I’ll never know because I didn’t take the time to try.

So, there’s a resolution candidate for 2014.

God Bless Mabel’s family.

Leftovers & Football

At this moment in time, I’m all alone, and Thanksgiving is officially over. It was really over about an hour ago, but I just now got to sit down because I had to do all the dishes from a lunch of leftovers for most of the attendees from yesterday, then I had to go to ACE and talk with Jack. He left a voice message for informing me that I was never available when he needed me. I left him a voice message but knew he wouldn’t listen to it because he was working and it’s illegal for him to do that while on the clock. So, I just drove down there and found him. I had to get a new battery for the garage door remote anyway, so it was a successful dual effort. Turns out he didn’t need me, after all, so it was a good thing I needed a battery

Diane, Jennifer, and Lydia are at a bridal shower for Victoria in Scappoose. Apparently she’s getting married sometime soon to a sailor, of all things, who is going to deploy sooner than expected. The wedding was originally scheduled for next summer, I believe, but I could be wrong as I have been know to be many times in the past.

Let’s see, I already informed everyone about Thursday, so all I need to do is remember what happened yesterday.

It began very early, like 0600 when the alarm went off. Yes, we used an alarm because Diane had to get me to the Hillsboro VA for an 0815 appointment with my new VA doctor. I’m in the clear on that because Diane made the appointment, not me. I’m guessing she wanted to get it over with early so we could get back home in time for the family dinner at our house.

Much of the preparation was done Thursday evening, after dark, when I made fudge and umpty-eleven deviled eggs using the eggs Diane boiled at some time in the past. I was going to wait to do them Saturday morning, after my doctor appointment, but the fudge only took about 20 minutes so I just did the eggs, too.

It was a full house yesterday with Don, Judy, Jack, Wynette, Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, Jeran, Jean, Diane and me present. It was organized chaos but fun just the same. We were all done eating in time to watch the Civil War game between the Ducks and Beavers. As expected, it was a really fun game to watch and the Ducks salvaged a little credibility by beating the Beavers by one point, 36-35. Close, but no banana for the Beavers. It was a fun game to watch with a room full of people.

After the game, people departed in droves, and quiet descended upon the house for the remainder of the day.

This morning I was up at 0700 for the dogs, then I slept in my recliner until 1000. Diane was up at 0900 making domestic noises in the kitchen. I ate a bit of breakfast, then went out to trim bushes around the house. It was Diane’s idea. She wanted the hydrangeas trimmed before the next rain, so I did it. Right here I have to add that I looked up the spelling of hydrangeas after I spelled it and it was correct. I was amazed. Still am.

I just watched Auburn beat Alabama 34-28 on a missed 57 yard field goal attempt by Alabama  with 1 second remaining in the game. Worst case was a miss then you go to overtime, right? Not today. The kick, though pretty good was a bit short. An Auburn player caught it in the back of the end zone and ran it back for a touchdown with no time on the clock. That 1 second went away as soon as the holder put the ball down for the kicker. I’ve never seen anything like that and it was awesome. One of the announcers commented that Alabama couldn’t defend the run very well because they only had linemen on the field, “a bunch of fat guys,” he said. I thought that was a bit crude of him, and it will probably be on the sports news for everyone to hear for years to come. Regardless of who was on the field, Alabama was simply beaten in an excellent game.

Now I’m watching Stanford whip Notre Dame. I will be switching back and forth between that game and the Texas A&M vs. Missouri game. I’m pulling for Missouri because I’m pretty tired of hearing about how great Johnny “Football” Manziel is. I just don’t see it because he’s actually only as good as his receivers and blockers. But, what do I know? I’m just an armchair QB from a backwater town in Oregon with a big TV and lots of opinions.

Now I’m going to stop and think aimless thoughts.

Golf, Food, and Computers

Today I only did three things of significance, other than waking up to celebrate one more day on the green side of the grass.

I’ve been doing pretty well getting through the last 3-4 days without my morning nap. It’s been tough, but in that regard I’m a trooper. I guess. I don’t know how long that’s going to last, however, because my body is craving that nap. It’s becoming important. But, I have to admit that I see to get more things accomplished when I stay off the recliner in the morning.

Yesterday JP called me suggesting we play golf today and Diane was all for that. I think she likes me doing things like that because it’s good for me to socialize once in a while, and she likes puttering around without me getting in the way.

So, shortly before 1000 I headed for the golf course. JP and Doug were already there, like normal. They almost always get there first which makes it good for me because I don’t have to stand around and wait for them to show up. That was good this morning because it was cold, like 26 degrees cold. A great day for golf, right? Chilly, yes, but incredibly beautiful. Here’s JP shooting his second shot from the ‘ditch’ on the first hole. That white stuff is frost, not snow. What fun.

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My tee shot wound up on the top of the hill, a place where I normally don’t land. It was by far my best shot of the day. So, it started well. Even though I play badly, as a rule, I still have a great deal of fun. We all do because we’re not all that serious about it. Well, maybe Doug is a little serious about it most times, but today he found it a little difficult to do that. In an uncharacteristic display of really bad golf, he hit his golf cart twice. I suppose that, in itself, isn’t all that extraordinary, except for the fact that the cart was parked directly in front of him, as he addressed his ball for a fairway shot both times. I mean, it was right there in front of him, like a challenge he could not refuse. Hitting the cart means it had to hit the ball right off the tip of his club to make it go exactly 90 degrees from the directly he was aiming. Quite remarkable to do it once. Twice, in one game, is probably a course record. I’ll have to check and let you know. If I don’t get back on that it’s because Doug convinced me it probably wasn’t a good idea.

Here’s Doug waiting to tee off on hole 6 after setting that course record on hole 5.

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Here’s another shot from the tee on #9.

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After golfing poorly, I was asked to go to lunch with them. I called Diane and got permission to do that so followed JP to Longfellow’s in Scappoose. Longfellow’s has been in the same location for as long as I can remember things that happened a long time ago. Really, it’s been there my entire life. They have a grill in the middle of the cafe part on which they grill all the meat ordered by patrons.

When we entered the facility from the incredibly bright sunshine, I couldn’t see a darn thing. My glasses were dark, for one, and the lights were very dim, for another, combining to make it very difficult to find the restroom, for which I had a great need.

So, I just stood there, waiting to regain my vision. Finally, I saw Jerry, older brother of JP and Doug, sitting at a table toward the back of the room. I made my way there and asked directions to the room with a urinal. He pointed me in the proper direction, through the bar area, warning me about the step up. The bar area is one step up from all directions, a handy feature that ensures patrons of that area cannot easily navigate safely into the cafe area because they always fall down. Sadly, as I said, there is a step up from all directions meaning I had to step down into the restroom area.

Having safely made the trip, I captured the chair next to Jerry. JP and Doug sat across from us then out of nowhere appeared Mike, one of our old high school teachers. Mike is only a few years older than us, so it’s OK. We’re all friends now, instead of teacher/student where friendship is not an option. JP had a patty melt on sourdough, Doug had a hamburger, Jerry had the salad bar, and I had the chili dog special. Mike didn’t eat anything.

The burger patties for the two sandwiches were absolutely huge – 1/2 lb of pure, unadulterated dead steer. It really looked good and temporarily made me sorry I hadn’t ordered one of them. But, the dog was very good. Jerry’s salad looked good, too.

Once the meal was over I went back to Jerry’s house for phase two on Dolores’s computer. As you may recall, I spent 4 hours on it last Thursday, but didn’t finish what I started. So, I had some work to do. Now, I’m not a whiz kid with computers, but I can fake my way through some pretty tense situations. Another thing I (think I) can do OK is show others how to do the same. Dolores is a good student because she’s not afraid to push buttons to see what happens. Jerry, on the other hand, is a bit hesitant to push buttons. He did it, but I could tell it was a struggle. Bottom line, he pushed through like a good soldier and got it done.

I texted Diane to let her know where I was so I wouldn’t be in trouble by not showing up right after lunch. She was OK with that because she was heading out to get more yogurt, and other stuff. We haven’t had yogurt in a few days and I was going into withdrawal. It’s not pretty. I was missing “other stuff”, too.

Now it’s time to quit.

Cookie Ladies and Stuff

Today after church the Church Ladies gathered around a group of tables in the basement to have a meeting before they distributed all the cookies they had baked. Each of the 20 or so ladies gathered around the tables brought 2 dozen of them so there were lots and lots of cookies.

This is an annual event, probably not unique in the world, but meaningful for those gathered because the cookies are placed tenderly in small boxes destined for local service men and women, college students, and those who just can’t make it to church any more. Each person wraps their cookies in bundles of two to facilitate packing, and to keep them fresh. This is a time-tested method that makes packing a simple process.

The ladies know their efforts are appreciated immensely by those who receive them. It’s that little extra unexpected touch of home that lets all those folks know someone cares for them.

“It’s that time of year” seems to be the mantra around … well … this time of year, just before Thanksgiving, so many people feel it’s necessary to put forth a little extra effort to help their fellow-man. That’s a good thing, but sad, in a way, that they only feel that need when “it’s that time of year.”

Why not all the time?

Do you think those who are on the receiving end of this kind of attention would find it unacceptable at any other time of year? I seriously doubt that, as I’m sure you do, too.

This isn’t a new concept, but I’ve got to say it anyway. Let’s just pretend it’s Thanksgiving and Christmas all year long.

Let’s just be nice and giving to others all year long because it’s a good thing.

It’s the right thing.

PTs, Trucks, and Swedish Music

Today was an adventure in auto mechanics of various kinds spanning vehicles from 1968 to 2001. Actually, it was only two vehicles. I worked on the 2001, first.

It’s our old PT Cruiser that used to look like this …

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Oh, gee! That one was taken in Nampa, Idaho across the street from the art work created by one of my brothers who lives there. He’s the one who doesn’t ‘do’ computers. But, he can handle a torch and bend some metal.

Here’s another one right after we got the trailer that we no longer have. We had a lot of fun camping in that and traveling all over the place showing it off.

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Nice ghost flames.

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The PT still looks pretty much the same except for the road rash from 12 years and 200065 miles of driving. But, it’s still ticking along and the only thing that’s gone bad on it is the timing belt and the rear suspension bell crank. Oh, and the driver’s seat belt tensioner failed. Jack fixed that, and the bell crank. There are some noises I need to investigate, and clean it up.

On that last item, to simplify things, I just ripped all the coverings off the dash that I could get off without something making that “breaking” sound. Most of it just pops right off. All the things in the next picture are just hanging by the wires because I removed all the screws I could find so I could clean them.

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Here’s some of the stuff I removed to clean … all I have to do, now, is figure out how it all goes back together and find all the screws. They’re in there somewhere, I’m sure.

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Then there’s the truck that has looked like this since the day I bought it …

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Just so happens that this was another starter event from a different year. The starter is what I worked on today. While I was working on the PT the sun came out and all the clouds just went away for a few hours. I looked at the truck, bull of ‘junk stuff’, and decided that I needed to get it fixed and get it emptied before the rain starts in earnest. Won’t be long before that happens.

I got the started out, swapped it for a new one at NAPA, and installed it. But, I couldn’t test it because, guess what! The battery was dead. So, I ran my handy-dandy extension cord from the garage and hooked up the battery charger where it will sit until tomorrow morning. Then I’ll try it and it better start. I’ll let you know how that goes.

We had dead chicken for supper. It was really good. Diane takes very good care of me and I appreciate it.

After supper we sat quietly, watching NCIS and NCIS Los Angeles then it was time to choir practice at church. We sang two songs I actually know, and two I don’t know. The one I know best is ‘Hosianna‘. It’s the only Swedish I know. I’m usually the only bass in the choir which is sad, but we get through it. Like normal, we went in to it cold tonight and everyone made it through just fine. The song is so complicated (for me) that I had to memorize it because I could either read the notes, or the words, but not both. Oddly, I was able to do that many, many, many years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it. Kinda like the Morse Code I had to learn when I went to Radioman School right after Navy boot camp. Those of us going to the school were given all night to memorize the code. It’s amazing what can be accomplished when prodded by fear. I’ve never forgotten the code, either.

Now we’re home and it’s time for bed.

Buona notte.

Church, Movies, Ravens, and Jeans

First, I must share yesterday’s sunrise with you …

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Not bad for rainy old Oregon, huh?

Today is Sunday so you all know what we did. Yup. We opened our house up to all the homeless people in Warren, Oregon and fed them all a good meal. Since there aren’t many homeless folks in Warren, it’s really not hard to do. Actually, to my knowledge, there aren’t ANY homeless people in Warren. That may cause you to question who we actually fed today, wouldn’t it? Like most other Sundays, we brought home Diane’s Mom, Jean, and fed her a Hebrew National hot dog. She had a choice – one dog or two. Diane had one, too. They each had one. Me? I ate left-over lasagna with 1/4 of the remaining baguette which I heated up on the “pizza” setting in the stove. I still have 1/4 left for my favorite sandwich, which I will make tomorrow, of ham, cheddar, and butter. Maybe a little mayo, but mostly butter.

In church this morning I was the lone greeter because Diane and her Jean took that time to set up the stuff they made for coffee hour after service. Since there were only about 33 people in church, it wasn’t difficult, but it could’ve been. One just never knows how many people are going to show up to be saved.

Diane and Jean tried to take their normal seats behind Nancy, but Larry and Shirley were already there, so they sat a row back. Being uncomfortable sitting behind Larry, I chose to be a “Left Side” churcher this morning and sat by Ron. It was a pretty good seat because I didn’t have to swivel myself to the left in order to hear the sermon. I could just stare almost straight ahead. It was very nice. I may sit there from now on. Sitting with Ron also gave me an opportunity to suck him into helping me with he offering, one of the tasks to which greeters are appointed. I had the right side, as you walk up the aisle, and things went well until I got to the third row where Nancy and Lisa were sitting. The second row is a short one, making room for a wheel chair, so the kids love it. Today it was occupied by Lisa’s daughters, Sarah and Dani. The girls indicated they had something to place in the offering, so I stepped in to let them make their deposit. I also noticed that Lisa had something in her hand that seemed to be destined for the offering plate, but she was busy giving instructions to the girls about something. I stood there for a long time, waiting to get her attention until I just couldn’t stand it any longer, with everyone staring at me and all, so I rapped her on the knuckles with the plate to get her attention. Which it did. I immediately regretted it. Honest.

She almost leaped out of her seat, catching herself at the last-minute, looking at me with a wild look in her eyes like, maybe, I was in some deep kimchi or something. Believe me, if you are ever going to be knee-deep in something you don’t want it to be kimchi.

Instead of standing up to slug me, she made her deposit and I made a hasty retreat before she could change her mind. I apologized later, but it was as if she had no idea what I was talking about, like what I did was normal. God bless her. Lisa works in the dental office where I’m a member so I’d hate to get on her bad side. She has access to needles and lots of other pointy objects.

Coffee hour went well. Since the cheese, an entire 5 lb loaf, was first in line it was devoured in no time. Just a few pieces remained. Cantaloupe was next. I cut up two of them yesterday and am happy to report there is enough remaining for a snack tomorrow morning. Jean made all the sweet stuff like rice krispee squares, brownies, and cup cakes. There were a few of them left, too, so we brought them home to nibble on after they ate their hot dogs and I ate the left overs.

After eating, we sat in the living room and watched a couple of movies Diane had recorded from the Lifetime channel. Pretty much all they show there are “Chick Flicks”, but she had “The Bucket List” with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson. I’ve seen it before, and it’s a good movie, but it’s not a chick flick at all. Maybe it wasn’t a Lifetime movie. During the movie I got a call from our friend, Tom, and talked with him for a couple of hours. I like talking with Tom because I always learn something new. Tom is the one who, not long ago, was hooked up to life support and pretty much written off as a goner. He fooled everyone, though, and made a miraculous recovery. Today he told me that last year when he went to the gun show in Hillsboro he had to use a wheel chair. This time he walked it all with just one cane. That’s amazing to me, and to a lot of other people. Tom’s also the guy who tried to staunch the blood flowing from a leg wound with a kotex. It would have worked well had he unwrapped it, first. Linda straightened him out on the proper use of a kotex. He will never forget that one. Nor will I.

Diane had a second movie which none of us had ever seen and it was good. For sure this one was a Lifetime Channel movie because it had commercials. It was definitely a Chick Flick, too. I actually like those kinds of movies because they end happy. Diane and I are alike in that manner. Like, if it’s a Bruce Willis movie, bad language seems to be more acceptable. Or, if it’s an action movie, something better blow up near the beginning or we lose interest. With CFs, their going to be a bit sappy, but problems are solved, and good things happen. All without bad language. That’s a plus.

Now the movies are done and we’re winding down. Me by doing this, and Diane by watching HGTV.

The Carolina Panthers won today. We follow them because Cam Newton’s backup QB is Derek Anderson, a Scappoose native. He gets to play when Cam gets hurt. Derek has played for other teams after being drafted by the Baltimore Ravens. His best year was with the Cleveland Browns in 2007. He owns a restaurant across the street from the Scappoose High School and he brings his NFL friends back to town every year to put on a football camp for the kids. One of our friends, Beth, was one of his teachers during his formative years, like maybe the 1st grade, who comforted him about his huge feet telling him that he’d grow in to them eventually. I know that’s true, because Beth told me that personally. He did, too, but he had to grow to six-foot-six to do it. Big boy.

Another little factoid is that Derek’s Grandpa live just around the corner from Diane’s Mom. We always know who Derek is playing for because Grandpa flies the appropriate flag in front of his house, along with the Oregon State Beaver flag where Derek set all kinds of records.

Oh, and Jean, the piano player, did you notice that the Panthers beat the 49ers today?

It was wrong of me to do that because Jean, the piano player, is a die-hard 49ers fan, her being from Modesto, and all. She went to high school with George Lucas there. Yes, “that” George. He’s only 6 days older than me so I guess that means I could have been a famous movie guy. I mean, we both know Jean, after all. She and George almost got married, I think, but she didn’t think he’d amount too much and moved to St. Helens. I’m guessing there. She may have only rubbed elbows with him once or twice, but I like my version best.

I heard from Idaho today and learned that all is well. It was terrible of me to shame Donna into communicating, but I couldn’t contain myself. The result was welcome news and worth the possibility of being shunned. That didn’t happen, however, and I believe it’s still OK to cross into Idaho any time we get the chance.

I think that’s about it. You all have a great evening.

Oh ya, Jewel. Here’s the sunrise that greeted me this morning …

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Tour Hillsboro For Less Than $400

How’s the new elbow, KC?

Are your hands getting along, yet, or is it too early to tell?

Diane took me to my dermatologist today to visit the rash on my back. I know, that’s personal but I had to share that since KC hasn’t objected (yet) to my mention of her faulty elbow. Knowing this, now, you may be happy to learn that my dermatologist burned 13 holes in my face and at least that many in my back. She uses a little spray can of liquid nitrogen to burn those holes, and they hurt, in case you don’t know. Thankfully, there isn’t any skin left on my ears so she didn’t have to burn any holes there. Ears hurt the worst.

So, now, I have 20-30 more spots on my body that will never tan. If this keeps going, it’s going to be like freckles in reverse. Sometimes I think they should just dip me in liquid nitrogen, let thaw a bit, then send me home.

I’ll include a photo of the damage as soon as KC comes up with a photo of the guy she got her new elbow from.

After visiting the doc, at 1030, we went to Tom & Linda’s to deliver some Avon stuff, and to visit with Tom for a bit. They only live a few blocks from where the appointment was. Unfortunately, for us, Tom picked that day to have some blood work down so we missed him. We did get to visit with Kyle a bit, however, so all was not lost. Turns out we missed Tom by a whisker as we left and he returned. There will be another day.

IHOP got our attention for breakfast so we stopped and had some. Our morning yogurt was long gone. We both had the Senior 2+2+2 which was very good. Then we headed for Costco.

I think we went to get paper plates, napkins, and little cups for the church. When done, however, it cost us over $300 to exit the store. The large part of that was getting ink for our printers. One of us isn’t too frugal when it comes to printing ‘stuff’. I won’t say which one because I don’t want to get into trouble. Again.

From Costco we went to the Washington County Habitat For Humanity Restore Store, or the WCHFHRS, for short. We were looking for either a window, or a piece of plexiglas to fill the hole left by the storm window that suspiciously fell out of the right side of the living room window when Diane opened it a few years ago. Those things just can hold up to a 15 foot fall to the ground. Thinking it would no longer be needed, I compounded the problem by tossing the frame, into which a new piece of glass could have easily been inserted, into the metal bin at the dump. Smooth, huh?

The reason that’s important now is because of our new chairs, the ones we bought because company was coming over. Remember those? Well, Diane likes them so much that she’s moved from the old recliner couch to one of those chairs, and it’s right next to the window with the missing part. It’s drafty and cold and now needs to be fixed. As long as she was sitting by the wall, it was perfectly OK. I envision a visit to ACE tomorrow to rectify this.

We went from WCHFHRS to one of the many Goodwill stores, Diane’s favorite place to shop, that dot the greater Portland area. The one she chose is located just up the block from a BMW dealership. I sat in the vehicle and read my John Grisham book, “The Racketeer”, for a couple of hours while she cruised the isles. About 1640 I went in the store to cruise a bit myself but discovered that we were due at our next location at 1700, not 1730 as I previously believed. Diane was heading for the check out line so it turns out I showed up just in the nick of time to cart all her treasures to the vehicle. She was pleased.

Rick and Jody were next on the agenda. We had a plan to meet them at BJ’s Brewpub and Pizzararium in Hillsboro where three of us had hamburgers, and one didn’t. This was another visit to deliver Avon products, and to just visit prior to going home.

By the time we arrived, the dogs had been without us for 10 hours. In dog hours that’s about three days. Jennifer, bless her, agreed to visit the dogs this afternoon to assure them they hadn’t been abandoned, but I failed to ask her to turn on a light for them. So, when we got home, they were in a pitch black house, except for all the pretty blue and green lights on the front of all the electronic equipment scattered around the place. So, it’s really not pitch black – its pitch black blue and green.

They were fine and didn’t even get up until I opened the door for them. Normally Ozzie is yapping away as soon as the big garage door starts up, and doesn’t quit until he’s well into the yard, relieving himself. It’s funny to watch him bark and pee at the same time. I’ve tried that and it isn’t easy.

Now we’re home and we missed choir practice tonight. It was the first one, too. As expected, I got into trouble for that because I actually knew about it. Yesterday.

Church, Pigs, and Heritage

I didn’t do anything today except go to church. It surprised a lot of people. It’s good we went because Pastor’s birthday was November 1st, All Saints Day, so we got cake. We were actually late for the service because we stopped at Safeway on the way and got the cake. It had raspberry jam in the middle. Very good.

After church, we brought Diane’s Mom, Jean, home with us, just like a normal Sunday. It’s a good day to spend with family. Diane whipped up a terrific lunch of broccoli, carrots (for her), mashed potatoes, applesauce, and pieces of dead pig. We have no idea how long the pig has been dead because the pieces were frozen together so well that she had to use our portable jaws of life to pry them apart so she could fry them. They did, I will add, look a lot like pork chops. Tasted like them, too.

Diane also baked a terrific cherry crunch pie, our favorite from Marie Callender’s. It’s frozen, like the pig parts, and will last pretty much forever. We don’t have them often, but as soon as it’s baked, she buys another one just to have it ready for the next time we decide to have one. Marie also makes a pretty good lemon meringue.

I’m curious about that last word, meringue. I honestly don’t know how something spelled like that can be pronounced like mə-rangor meˈʁɛ̃ɡ, depending on your nationality. I guess that falls in the category with why me, and most people I know, call Washington Worshington. In know, it’s a pretty minor difference, but I’ve discovered that some Worshingtonians take exception to my pronunciation of their favorite state. Funny how things like that come creeping out of the woodwork, like all the sudden naming conventions for some sports teams are totally unacceptable.

Take the Worshington Redskins, for example. Since that’s a double whammy from me, I wonder if it is, in fact, technically correct, kinda like a double negative. You know, like saying, “I ain’t no idiot!” or, more grammatically correct, “I am not no idiot!”

In my humble opinion, I think the ACLU need for everyone to be politically correct in all things is getting out of hand. The Redskins? Really? I heard one Native American on the news say that referring to her as a Redskin was the same as using the “N” word for an African-American. All my life the Redskins were a football team. I don’t believe I actually connected the name to ‘real’ Native Americans until someone complained about it.

Here’s another one that kinda frosts me … African-American. Native American, I get. They were here first, I think, and Columbus thought he’d landed in India. So, those he me when he got off the boat really aren’t Indians. If he had known where he was, he would have called them New Worldians. But African-Americans, to me, is an odd naming convention. If we are going to begin adding our nationality to what we are as Americans, I must be a European American. That’s because I only know what half my heritage is. There could possibly be some African in there somewhere that would make me, say, an Afro-Euro American. Then there’s gotta be Canadian-American, South American-American, Russian-American, Australian-American, Japanese-American, Chinese-American, and oh ya, Indian-American. Love that last one.

Actually, using the African-American naming convention, all of us have only one of seven choices for picking our nationality, based on where we were born.

  • Africans
  • Antarcticans
  • Asians
  • Australians
  • Europeans
  • North Americans
  • South Americans

If you find it necessary to qualify your continent, based on heritage, then I guess I’m a European-North American. But, most forms ask us about Nationality, not Heritage.

I’m getting used the name changes, slowly, and honestly do not have a problem with most of the hoopla surrounding it. It just seems, to me, that too much effort is being devoted to making it all a big deal. I’ve, personally, got more important things to worry about. If you’re offended, I’m sorry, and you have permission to call me absolutely anything you want. If you do that, don’t expect a reaction from me if your intent is to offend me, it’s a wasted effort. I’m a honky, whitey, haole, whatever. It’s not going to affect me or how I act. Honest. I’ll still do dumb things and might even reinforce whatever pet name with which you wish to anoint me.

Wow! I have no idea where that soap box came from?

OK – I understand why people, all of them, have a tribal need, if you will, to identify with their heritage. That’s fine. I think I’ll start putting down Oregonian-North American on forms that ask for race. One of my brothers is Nebraskan-North American, and another is Wyomingan-North American. I’m the only one in my family who married a woman of the same race as me. Diane is also an Oregonian-North American.

This is just getting stupid and I cannot find a safe way to extract myself from this topic other than to just quit. I regret going down that rabbit hole, and mean no offense to rabbits by using that term.

And, I apologize to all the pigs, cows, chickens, and turkeys of the world because at some point in my life I will consume some of you and/or your offspring. I really don’t think you care about it, but there it is.

I must quit.

Doctors, Showers, Bunco, and Sunsets

Monday, my most favorite day of the week … it was a bright sunny one, too, making it even better. And, it was cold. But I wore shorts anyway.

This morning I had a doctor appointment, here in town, just because I haven’t seen a local doctor for almost a year and there is a Oregon law that requires all citizens to do that, or else! So, even though I’ve been adequately cared for by the VA for all that time, I must adhere to Oregon Law or else move to Canada. It’s a rule. Another reason I had to see my local doctor is because she prescribes me meds the VA can’t. That’s actually a better reason than obeying the fictitious Oregon law.

The appointment was at 11:20 am so I had a couple of hours to kill after waking up from my nap. Knowing I’d have to wash my entire body before going to the doctor, I just left my jammies on and got to work on an inside project. This morning that was adding the moulding around the opening between the kitchen and dining areas which has been mould-less for 8 years. I’ve had the wood in the basement all this time, but it just never got to be all that important until this morning. That’s because the Bunco Babes were descending on our home and Diane was ready for them to see that I actually did things around here. At least once in a while. So, I did it. I actually cut the trim yesterday, but had to make an adjustment to the width of the opening , making it an inch narrower, so I wouldn’t have to rip the pieces that go on either side of the external wall part. I know. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but that’s the way it is. The trim is 2.5 inches wide, and the area, on the outside wall, was only 1.75 inches wide. In order for me to avoid ripping off an inch of the trim, allowing for a 1/4 inch reveal, I decided to add an inch to the surface area around which the trim would be placed. That made it 2.75 inches, just enough for my 1/4 inch reveal. Clear as radar, right? Me too. I took a lot of thinking for me to get it all straight in my head, and to get the pieces all cut with a decent mitre so they wouldn’t look too bad from a distance. The mitres are near the ceiling so accuracy isn’t as crucial as it normally would be. Like, if it was closer to eye level, like a cabinet or something.

After getting that partially done I ran to my bathroom and got myself all wet and shiny, added some soap, bubbled up, and scrubbed my underwear really good. We have a new rule in the house, for me, that all showers will be conducted while wearing underwear in order to cut down on the amount of laundry Diane has to do. It works OK, but I can never get all the soap out of them and they dry a little bit stiff, making them more than a little uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours. So, I’ve adopted a commando attitude and decided to not wear underwear unless directed to do so. When doing so, I also wear outerwear that do not have zippers. I’ve never discussed it before, but there have been zipper injuries in my past. They are absolutely brutal for the victim, and just hysterical for whoever draws the short straw and has to undo the zipper because the victim can’t. Simply stated, it’s a very agonizing way to perform a circumcision, even for those who have already had one. Enough said …

When the shower was done, I rushed out of the house and down the hill to the doctor’s office. I arrived at 11:15 am, as directed, got checked in, then sat in the waiting room, reading my book, for the next hour and 15 minutes. The lady sitting across from me, with the cast, had an 11:25 appointment. Finally, an attendant appeared and called my name. I jumped up and followed her to the scale, got weighed, then went to the designated room. The first question they asked was if I was still using albuterol. Since I’ve never used albuterol, in any form, I said, “no.”

This caused a bit if concern for the medical assistant, one of which was in either in training, or was doing an internship, so they asked for my birthday. I gave it, then they figured out that I was the wrong Jerold. It was the other Jerold they wanted. So, back to the waiting room I went, for another 10 minutes.

Then a different sort of medical gal called my name and, knowing I was the only Jerold in the waiting room, I acknowledged and followed her to the scale where I was weighed and measured. I’ve compressed 2 complete inches since 1975. I’m only 5’9″ now. Might have to start hanging by my knees from the tree out front, I guess.

When the weights and measure were satisfied, I was taken to a different room where my blood pressure was taken and I was told it was a bit high. I was asked a lot of personal questions, which I answered truthfully, then I was left alone for another 15-20 minutes before the doctor appeared.

She entered the room with Molly, a scribe, and didn’t look at me until I stood and offered her my hand. Even at a lowly 5’9″ I was taller by far.

The doctor sat down at the wall-mounted computer, and Molly came equipped with a big Dell laptop, and a chair. Together, they began entering all my personal data, as well as most of the data contained in my paper chart, which they just happened to have, even though just last week I was told I was not listed as one of their patients. That’s the reason I had the appointment, so I could clear that up, and get a scrip refilled. In all, I was in the room with the doctor, and Molly, for about 30-45 minutes. That’s about the longest I’ve ever been in the same room with a doctor for an appointment. Usually, they ask a couple of questions, then let one of their minions finish up. The exception is the nazi doctor at the VA who gave me my last nerve conduction test using large hypodermic needle with wires attached to his oscilloscope. He enjoyed his work a bit too much, I believe. I’m sure I heard him take a deep breath, and shudder, as he stabbed me with one of those needles.

I have a rash on my back, which the doctor checked. I obtained it in Mexico, I think, from little tiny ants that frequented the chaise lounges by the pool in which we spent most of our time. Now I learn that it’s possibly shingles, for which I had my shot after we got back from Mexico. So, I’m in flux, wondering what my lab test for varicella zoster IGG, IGM will reveal.

Upon returning from the doctor I was met by an angry grandma who wanted to know what took me so long at the doctor. Then she ran off to get Jeran from school because he was sick. When she returned she was still mad at me, even though I finished putting up the trim. Now all it needs is paint. Lots of paint.

After finishing my project, we shared a can of chicken noodle soup, then I took off for my board meeting with our Lions Club. For some reason I’m 1st or 2nd Vice President. I’m still a little mystified as to how that happened because I don’t remember campaigning. I was probably voted into that spot during one of the many meetings I’ve missed. That’s usually when stuff like that happens, when you miss a meeting, or three.

The meeting was over in 40 minutes. When I returned home the only place I could park was in the front yard. There were cars everywhere. Apparently the Bunco Babes don’t car pool often. When I entered the house, early, I made sure to get everyone’s attention and proclaimed loudly that, “the party’s over! Everyone out!” It got quiet for about 3 seconds, then everyone went back to what they were doing. They always do that. There are 12 ladies and they do this once a month so Diane only has to do it once a year, since they rotate that responsibility. They all know the routine, but still they give me their attention when I proclaim … the only difference is that the time between getting their attention and them ignoring me gets shorter each time. Next year they will probably ignore me totally. I’m used to that, however, and will proclaim anyway. While they are rolling their noisy dice and ringing their bell.

I must admit, that they have a lot of fun. It’s good for Diane to have this social diversion, and it’s a good way to get rid of all the wine we don’t like, or that has been sitting around open for too long. We start them off with the good stuff, then infiltrate it with the bad about half way through the game. Works like a charm. I think they do that in bars, too.

Lydia was sitting at Diane’s computer working on her homework when I got home, so I sat in the Man Room to keep her on track. That, and I wasn’t allowed anywhere else in the house BUT the Man Room. So, it worked out. Lydia needed a little computer help, too, which I’m always more than happy to provide. Sometimes I provide it even when people don’t want it. Tonight, it was needed. Lydia had to write an essay and create a PowerPoint presentation to go with it. Since she had never used PowerPoint, it was a bit of a challenge. Luckily, I’m a semi-expert with software people don’t understand and was able to boost her in the right direction. Though she stumbled, and griped about how boring it was then entire time, she was extremely proud of the results. So, mission accomplished.

Now the din has ceased because everyone left except Diane. She’s almost done cleaning up, and I’m done with this.

So, it’s bed time.

First, however, I must share last night’s sunset view.

DSC_8027

This is mainly to show Jewel that we get to see some of the pretty ones before she does from her perch on slopes of Mauna Loa which is, according to Wikipedia, the largest volcano on Earth. Nifty. Makes me want to move there. Really, it does. Though it’s the biggest, it’s lava is silica-poor making it very fluid which is a more appropriate way to say this volcano has the runs. It’s making the island bigger all the time and it’s amazing to see. While we lived in Hawaii, in the 80’s, we were always getting news of houses being consumed by flowing lava running down the mountain side. The slope is gentle so everyone has plenty of time to get out of the way, When we visited the island we were able to walk on the newly cooled lava and see the remains of cars and homes that it had captured on its journey to the sea. It’s worth a look.

Here’s what that very same sunset looks like by the time it gets to Jewel …

DSCN1575