Category Archives: Golf

Golf and Soccer

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This morning I was once again forced to participate in a golf match with the Peal brothers, Junior & Doug. As some of you may know, when I began this association with them I was a neophyte golfer, calling anything under 70 for 9 holes a good day. And it was. Back then.

Now that we’re older apparently the competition has become more meaningful, or it’s easier to forget more of the bad shots I make, either of which could be responsible for me lowering my scores to the very low 50’s. Today I shot 53 which is really, really good for me. It would have been lower yet had I been able to make some pretty simple putts. One putt I made from about 10 feet out went into the middle of the cup, hit the plastic edge of the hole liner and bounced right back at me, landing about 4 inches from the hole. Remarkable. But, it was fun for all. Doug also had a 53 and Junior beat us both with a 52. In another couple of years I should be able to get my scores into the 40’s. Could be, too, that I’ll lose all my balls before that happens and I won’t have to worry about it.

After golf Doug brought me home. He agreed to do that because Jewel drove me to the course because I still need to put the windshield wipers on my old truck and it was raining. It rained on us most of the way around, but we didn’t care.

I quickly changed my clothes and jumped in the back seat of Diane’s truck and we headed for Dallas to watch Lydia play soccer. That’s Dallas, Oregon, not Texas. It’s near Salem, toward the Oregon coast.

The first half Lydia sat on the bench watching as the St. Helens defense floundered a little and went to the locker room down 2-1. Morgan, the first half goalie, didn’t get a lot of help from her team mates keeping the ball out of the net, and she made some really good stops. Lydia took over goalie duties in the second half and the girls’ offense kicked into gear for 3 more goals. The defense, aided by some pretty awesome saves by Lydia, held Dallas scoreless ending it with a 4-2 win for our girls. It was a really good 2-hour bus ride home for St. Helens I’m sure. They played very well as a team.

Now we’re home and it’s time for bed so I’m stopping.

G’nite.

Doctor Visits, Golf, Gmail & Outlook, RV Dumping

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Last Monday I had a doctor’s appointment but gave it up so Diane could go in my place. Since I don’t go to the doc very often I was pretty sure they wouldn’t notice that Diane wasn’t me. But, they fooled me, and knew it was Diane right away. I think it’s because her hair is longer than mine. Even though they knew it wasn’t me they chose to see Diane anyway because, well, she needed to be seen. My appointment was just for a 2-month followup. Nothing’s happened in the last two months, however, so I was OK not seeing the doc. But, as luck would have it, they had an opening with my doctor right after my original appointment, so all that subtrafuge, though fun, was a total waste of time.

Diane had to see the doc because she developed a mysterious rash on her neck that was driving her nutsoid. She said it didn’t hurt, it just itched. We were concerned that it might be a new episode of shingles, and the doctor was wondering that herself. Diane now has some cream to help with the itch and it appears to be working.

Me? I’m fine. My BP was 117/68 (or something like that), HR 72, and weight 197. The weight, of course, is incorrect. It always is at the doc’s office. I wonder why that is. In addition to  asking all the normal questions about any changes I may have noticed, doc checked my ear to see how the Mohs surgery went. The ear is still a bit tender, but it healed so nicely that you can barely see that anything was done. My surgeon did a fabulous job. I also had photos taken of my retinas to see how my diabetes is going. I got the good news today that it’s all normal.

Yesterday I was forced to go golfing with Junior and Doug and I had one of my better rounds (52). Not bad for a 37 handicap. Yes, that’s how bad I really am. The reason is because I’m no too concerned with trees and just pretend they aren’t there if they happen to be between me and where I want to go. Most of the time it doesn’t work, but the times it does is lots of fun.

After golf I paid a visit to Eva, one of my high school class mates, who was having trouble with adding a Gmail account to her Outlook application. I couldn’t figure it out, but had a great visit. After returning home I went to work on the internet in an attempt to figure out how to fix it. It was a waste of time because I was really wanting to be outside working but Diane wouldn’t let me because it was so hot. Running 90+ I think and I’m forbidden to be outside when it’s that hot. I don’t mind, but hot days are the ones I’d rather be inside anyway so I don’t whine about it. Well, I don’t whine about it every time. Just once in a while, to keep in practice.

No, regarding Gmail and Outlook … I figured it out this afternoon and it’s kind of interesting. I’d explain it to you but I don’t want to. If you’re really interested, let me know and I’ll tell you.

Before doing the Gmail research, I hooked up the travel trailer in preparation for a run to the dump station next to Burgerville. Regarding that … I don’t believe any of the rumors going around about Burgerville using water from the dump station to wash their pans. I think it goes directly into the city sewer system. Honest. The trailer had to be dumped because when we left Big Eddy on July 24th their dump station was no available. So, we just went on home thinking we would do it when we got to St. Helens. But, we didn’t. Instead, we just went home to visit with Jewel and the dogs. Once the trailer was parked, there seemed to be too many other things going on that made hooking up the trailer difficult. Today, however, we decided that it had to be done since we will need to have all tanks empty for our trip to Beverly Beach next week. The dump went well, in case you’re wondering. Didn’t spill a drop. I was a bit concerned that the black tank may have solidified after sitting for a month, and that I may have to get a bunch of Fleet enemas to get things going, but it wasn’t necessary. It was a complete, uneventful evacuation of all tanks. Made me proud.

Upon returning home I put on my outdoor work clothes because I wanted to flatten a portion of the front yard that’s been a lump for years. Despite warnings about temps too high for me to be working outside (98) I went anyway and accomplished the task. then I took a shower so Diane would let me sit in the living room this evening.

For those of you keeping track of Jewel, I must admit that Diane and I are having difficulty helping her gain weight. She only weighs like 12 pounds and nothing seems to stick to her. Actually, she weighs more than that but it’s a secret. She did make a comment the other day that I thought was quite funny. She said she’s just a stick figure with wrinkles. But, she’s healthy and appears to be happy, so we should probably just quit making her eat ice cream all the time and leave her alone.

Hope all of you are happy and well.

Grandma Jean is 89, so we ate pizza

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Today Diane’s Mom, Jean, turned the calendar to begin her 89th year. We got a jump on the festivities when Diane organized a celebratory coffee hour after church yesterday morning. Today’s event was more intimate, attended by Diane, Jennie, Lydia, and me. We went to Fultano’s in Scappoose to partake of their lunch special so we could just sit and talk, mainly. But we ate pizza, too. And Salad. And ice cream. And cookies. We left stuffed and happy. Lydia had gone on a 14 mile hike this morning with members of her soccer team and made it back just in time to switch from hiking clothes into an adorable little dress so she could go to Fultano’s with us. Sadly, she had stopped at McBurgerville on the way home for some chicken strips so wasn’t hungry. She did, however, have a couple of glasses of ice tea. It was good to have her with us. Pretty soon she, like Cedric, will be off in search of her own life. Jeran would have come along, too, but he was working. He does that. A lot.

Yesterday, after coffee hour, Diane, Jewel and I helped the Scappoose High Class of 1962 celebrate their 54th reunion, in the rain, at Trojan Park, previous home of Oregon’s only nuclear power plant. Besides us, the following folks attended: Karen, Darrell, Laurie, Phyllis, Josette, Mary Ann, Eva, Evelyn, David, Sam, Vern, Larry, Harold, Howard, Harriett, and Judy. So, counting Jewel and me there were 17 of us from a class of about 100. Also in attendance were eleven spouses. It was a potluck, the best kind of picnic. Pretty good stuff. We visited for a few hours then dispersed to resume our normal lives until next year when we’ll do it again.

I heard through the Grape Vine that Terri and Lisa have started construction on their new home. We wish them well, and that there will be no hiccups that cause delays.

This morning, before getting ready for our trip to lunch, I helped brother Jack make a couple of dump runs. The first one was 460 lbs making us ineligible for the senior discount. The second trip, however, through judicious choice of products to discard, we were able to get the weight right on at 320 lbs, the maximum allowed for the discount. Pretty slick. Teamwork. I had to take Diane’s truck to haul the trailer because I need to fix the brakes on my old truck. Only the left front brake works, I think. I was going to take it anyway but then it started raining making use of the old truck a deal breaker because I still haven’t put the windshield wipers on it. They’re in the garage someplace. Guess it’s that time of year where I’ll have to dig them up if I want to keep driving it. Might need them tomorrow when I go golfing.

Wait! Good news! Diane just told me she’d get up early to take me to the golf course if Doug could bring me home. Oddly enough, Doug called right about then and agreed that he would do that. What a guy.

Now I need to think about going to bed so I can be nice and rested for tomorrow’s grueling contest.

Cheers.

Oh ya. Hope all of you Idaho people have already purchased your gift for Gracie’s party next Saturday. It’s my understanding that everyone is gathering at the Idaho Center around 2-2:30 for a brief visit with her opening act, Garth Brooks, then everyone will be directed to their reserved seats for her birthday party. No gifts, please. Just give her money. There will be more on this as the event draws closer.

Golfing, and other Stuff

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It was a good day on the golf course. None of us died. I beat the Peal brothers handily which reaffirms my previous statements about golfing more makes you better. This just happened to be my day. Doug came in with a cold and then we have Junior who has two fake knees and a bad back that requires a couple of back braces to make playing tolerable. We had a good time.

Getting to the golf course, however, was a bit dicey because the brakes on my old truck decided it was time to retire. Thankfully, there was no one at the intersection of Barr Ave and Sykes Road when I made this discovery or there would have been a wreck. But, I made it to the course on time by driving very carefully the rest of the way. I can stop it if the truck is rolling slowly. Made it home OK, too. Since it has a load of dirt in the back, I need to find some brake fluid so I won’t run through the lower fence in the back yard when I go there.

… pause …

Couldn’t find any brake fluid in the garage, but I have lots of power steering fluid so used some of that. Seems to work just fine. Does anyone know if that’s a bad idea?

Only a day left before I go under the knife for Mohs surgery on Wednesday morning. Dr. Alan is going to peel all the skin off my right ear, remove all the basal cell carcinoma things then put it all back together. I told the young lady who called for the pre-op stuff that I was OK with and Ear-ectomy if necessary but she said that wouldn’t be necessary and that when Dr. Alan is done it will still look like an ear. She didn’t say what kind of ear, and I didn’t ask, so I planning to be surprised when it’s all done. I’ll take a picture to share.

Right now I’m going to just rest a bit and wait for Diane to feed me.

Ciao.

Golf, Thermostats, and the Old Truck,

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I had to go golfing again yesterday because I said I would. Diane thinks it’s OK that I golf a lot. I suspect she think by going more often I’ll get better at it. Boy do I have a surprise for her. Unlike most other sports, where that’s true, golf has its own rules when it comes to getting better. One day it’s good, the next day it’s bad. So it goes. The up side of golfing is that I generally get to drive the cart. That’s fun.

Daniel’s PT Cruiser started overheating on him so he brought it over to see if I could figure out why. After looking under the hood for a little while I decided that the thermostat had given up and crossed the bar. For those of you unfamiliar with crossing the bar, it’s a Navy term for “died”. When a friend passes, they’ve crossed the bar. I suppose that could be taken in a couple of ways because of the nature of sailors, like, it could be a statement that a sailor had crossed the bar when he was thrown over one during a fight in a foreign port. You know how those sailors drink, right? Well, you at least know how people THINK those sailors drink. Most commonly, however, crossing the bar simply refers to the point a ship is on its own after leaving port and the harbor pilot departs. Still, it’s a nice, symbolic, mental image for us old guys to consider as we progress toward the end of our lives. “Crossing the Bar” is also a poem.

Back to the PT …

Since neither Daniel nor I had ever changed the thermostat in a PT Cruiser, it was a journey of discovery for both of us. I have a perfectly good service manual in a readily accessible folder on my computer, but referring to it would have removed the mystery of our journey. Instead, we just studied the situation and started taking bolts off things to gain access to what we both determined to be the problem area. Turns out, it’s a complicated process because the turbo engine we were working on was most certainly built by very small people with very small hands. Consequently, gaining access to some bolts whose removal were critical to our endeavor, was problematic and resulted in the loss, forever, of two of them. Each of us lost one, and listened intently as they clattered their way into the tangle of wires and tubes, never to reach the ground. This, of course, required a trip to ACE for replacements. Thankfully, we were had retained possession of a nut of the right size that enabled Daniel to procure the necessary replacements. In the end, Daniel was able to get all the bolts back into place using a more careful approach, knowing that one little slip meant another trip to ACE as soon as all the replacement bolts and nuts were lost. Fortunately, none were lost. One of these days those lost bolts will secure their freedom on the highway and bounce along until they come to rest amidst the rocks and debris near the guard rail somewhere along Highway 30. A hitchhiker may find them and know exactly what they are for but more likely they will sit there for years, rusting, until finally they are once again one with the universe. Happens all the time.

During interludes while Daniel was shopping for parts, I worked on the Old Truck, replacing spark plug wires. I decided to do that when the engine started sounding a lot like a John Deere tractor. It was running on 6 or 7 cylinders because one wire was parted at the spark plug, and another was partially burned through as it rested peacefully on the incredibly hot exhaust manifold. It was time. Part of the process of preparing the wires was to attach the spark plug ends after making sure they were the right length. I didn’t both with cutting them because I didn’t want to. I just took one off, selected a new one that was close to the proper length, then put it all together. As a result, some wires are a bit long for the plug to which they are attached, but I remedied that by winding them around tubes and hoses in the engine compartment. None of them will be allowed to touch the exhaust manifold. They should last a long time. Cousin Don provided me with a handy tool to properly crimp the little metal clips on the wires and I’m thankful for that. Don is my favorite mechanic. He knows everything and has all the tools.

Diane told me there’s a cruise in at the Elks Club today. I might drive the old truck out there just for fun and look at all the nice cars.

Oh ya! Diane’s been bugging me for years about painting it so I began that process a few days ago when I came across an assortment of rattle cans in the basement. I decided to use what I have and see how it works out. The first can only lasted to cover the left front fender. It’s OSHA yellow, meant for hard hats, I believe. I have some green and red that I will try on other parts as time permits unless Diane hides them from me, or throws them away.

What do you think?IMG_0454

Yeah, I know. It needs another coat and I got some paint on the chrome, but it will come right off with the right chemicals. While I’m at it I may as well put the windshield wipers back on it so I can drive it in the rain, and maybe put the right side mirror back together – it fell apart and the mirror part is laying on the dash. When I want to use it, I just hold it and look behind me.

It’s only a little after 9 am and I hear Diane tiptoeing around so guess it’s time to get productive. First thing up is to print the church bulletin and the church’s August newsletter. That’s my job.

Later

The Dead Golfer’s Agreement

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So, I went golfing a couple of days ago and didn’t do too badly. I even counted most of my strokes for a change, unlike Doug who counts absolutely everything he swings at. Still can’t beat him.

Around the fifth hole we discussed some of the final aspects of our Dead Golfer Agreement and at which point in the process we should notify the affected significant other. The preliminary suggestion, mine, was to do that just after calling 911 once we’re done with finished playing.

Here’s a DRAFT version of the DGA …

DRAFT

We, the undersigned, hereto and forever after, agree, tentatively, to perform the following steps, without fail, if we are able, in the event one of us checks out, permanently, during a round of golf in which all three of us participate, as long as the game is played at the St. Helens Golf Club.

Article One: Dying during one of the following events voids this agreement and requires that one of the surviving members call 911 immediately, or as soon as they are done going to the bathroom, to report the death. The other member will call the appropriate significant other to let them know.

  • While in the process of paying for the round and the cart
  • Driving the cart to the vehicle containing the clubs,
  • Transferring the clubs from the car to the cart
  • Driving to the first hole, Walking to the tee
  • While placing a ball on the tee
  • Taking practice swings
  • Addressing the ball
  • While in the backswing motion
  • While swinging down on the ball without making contact with the ball

Article Two: The game must be in progress for the articles of this agreement to be binding. To be in progress one member must have teed off at the first hole. Specifically, this means that the member has begun his swing and hits the ball. Since it will be difficult to know if a member dies at the moment his club impacts the ball, or just before that, the game will be considered in progress because he hit the ball.

Article Three: The member who discovers that a member has apparently entered a deceased mode is required by this agreement to verify if there is a pulse and if there is any sort of respiratory effort being made by the affected member.

  • If there is a pulse but no noticeable respiratory effort the vertical members will play one round of Rock-Paper-Scissors to determine who will perform mouth to mouth on the horizontal member. The winner of the RPS round is safe and can retire to the cart to prepare the bungee cords and rope in case they become necessary. Just in case.
  • If there is no pulse but the horizontal member is obviously attempting to breathe, one of the vertical members must perform chest compressions in an attempt to restart the heart. Apparently pounding on the chest is a valid form of CPR and may ‘scare’ the heart back into action. They do that in comic books.
  • If any CPR action works, the members will allow the golfers behind them to play through until the striken member is well enough to continue the game.
  • If the striken member cannot continue the round he will be declared the loser, and will be returned to his vehicle where he must wait until the other two complete the round.
  • Once the round is complete, one of the un-striken members should probably call a doctor, or call 911, just in case.

Article Four: If CPR actions fail, the horizontal member will be declared deceased. The time will be noted and written on the scorecard next to their name in this manner: TOD mm/dd/yyyy-hh:mm-am/pm.

Article Five: After recording TOD, surviving members will extract the bungee cords and ropes, which they are all required to carry, from their golf bags, and they will drag the horizontal member to his assigned cart and place him in the passenger seat. Bungee cords and rope will be used to the extent necessary secure the deceased member in an upright position and to limit the possibility of him falling out of the cart during the remainder of the round.

Article Six: When the round is complete, and all golfers are safely back at their vehicles, one of the survivors will call 911 and the other one will call the correct significant other. Waiting for the authorities to arrive would be a good time to alert other golfers in the area about this event so they can express their condolences and to receive a commemorative golf ball from the deceased member’s bag.

This agreement will, of course, need revision but I think you get the drift.

Golf & Pain

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Happy First Day of Summer! It’s finally here! Now we have to start watering the front lawn so it will grow giving Diane a reason to play on the lawn mower. She can’t do that, however, until she finishes up out back. It’s a mess.

Rumor has it that I have to go golfing tomorrow because our weatherman, JP, said it’s going to be a good day for it. So, we go golf. The problem for me is that I had my pneumonia booster today and my left arm is incredibly sore. The young lady who stabbed me did a good job with the needle, but when she mashed the plunger I almost cried. She said she was sorry, but there wasn’t much that could be done at that point. So, now I have to swing a club with all that pain in my left arm in addition to the rotator cuff pain in the right one. Yes, I have to go swing that club. Should be a good day.

Does anyone know someone at this number: +93 8808191 ?? According to my phone it’s somewhere in Afghanistan. I don’t know anyone there.

I’m keeping this short because it hurts to sit long due to my sciatica piraformis.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Have a great day.

Cedric, Jewel, Diane, Doug, Junior, & Taylor

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Gee! It’s been a week since my last post and I can’t comprehend that amount of time slipping past me without registering. Just a blink of the eye and it’s gone. Perhaps I had a bunch of naps which could account for some of that time, but certainly not a week. I don’t think. Now I must reflect and see if anything interesting happened. If not, I’ll make something up.

First up is Cedric. He was 19 years old last Monday, the 13th. If you’ve read a few of these, you may already know that he’s poised for a trip to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center next month to begin boot camp. He enlisted on the Delayed Entry Program (DEP) a few months ago but had to wait for a spot. He’s excited about getting on with his life and we’re happy that he is finding his way. There will be more news about his progress as information is made available to me.

Last Monday, the 14th, was a double duty day for me because I was out of the house shortly after 6am to go help put out flags around town. Why did we do that, you may ask? It was Flag Day. One of those days that not may folks know about any more. So, now you have it. Keep that in mind for next year. It’s not a paid holiday, but one that gives us another opportunity to pay tribute to our Stars and Stripes.

After flags were in place, I made a trip to the St. Helens Golf Course for another round with the Peal Boys, Doug and Junior. That’s always a fun time. I actually played a pretty good round, too. Had two pars, one of which was a potential birdie. My drive made it to the green, something I’ve never done before. What fun is that!? Jimmie O wants to team up for a round at Wildwood soon so I’ll have an opportunity to see if I can survive 18 holes. There will be a report on that later, too, if I do good.

After golfing, we had a McBurgerville lunch then Doug dropped me by the doctor’s office for a scheduled visit with my cardiologist. This was the followup regarding the cardiac event I had a few weeks ago. I think it was a few weeks ago. I forget. Perhaps some of those brain cells that help me remember stuff got messed up somewhere along the road. That happens, and it’s OK. We all forget stuff. The one thing about forgetting stuff is where I am doing something up stairs and find I need “something” that’s in the basement but can’t remember what it is when I get down there. When that happens I walk around in my work shop and talk to my tools, and random pieces of wood, trying to get some help from them to remind me what I’m after. Generally I remember and find what I want, but sometimes I just find something else more interesting that what I was previously doing. When Diane discovers that I’m missing, she gets me back on track to finish the original task. She knows I forget, and I told her that it’s really only going to be a problem if I rush from the living room to the bathroom than can’t remember why I went there. I believe she has a stash of Depends somewhere to assist when that moment comes.

Thursday morning I had coffee with my friend, Larry. My other friend Larry played hooky so we didn’t have a quorum for the weekly meeting. Got to have three in case something comes up for a vote to ensure we don’t wind up with a tie. I believe the rest of that day was spent slumbering. I’m not sure. Diane may know. You’ll have to ask.

Friday we made a trip to Scappoose to pick up Jewel, our new gardener and dog sitter. She’s been on Hawaii, the Big Island, for the last 38 years, or so, (I’m guessing, of course), and is pretty much a native of Kailua/Kona. Coming back to the NW is like coming home for her. Thankfully the weather has cooperated, giving her a warm welcome. The sad thing about her return is that when we visit Kona we won’t have her to visit with. Because of that we may just not ever go there again. The good thing about her being here is she likes our dogs and she likes to pull weeds so we are applying a lot of pressure on her to just come live with us, like forever, or at least until she gets settled. She and I graduated from Scappoose High School together and it’s fun getting reacquainted after all these years. Because she was our Prom Queen I didn’t have a chance of ever dating her and now, look! We’re living together. It’s ok, though, because she and Diane are long time friends.

Friday afternoon we all went to the Riverfest Beer Garden down by the old court-house where we attended a OLCC training session about checking IDs for folks entering the area. We had to do that because Diane signed us up for a two-hour stint Friday evening. The training we received amounted to someone reading us a brochure that indicated the necessity of ensuring only competent adults were allowed in to drink beer then quickly shifted to “Signs of Visible Intoxication”. Here they are:

  • Bloodshot, glassy eyes
  • Slurred speech
  • Spilling drinks
  • Rambling conversation, loss of train of thought
  • Difficulty handling money, picking up change
  • Lack of focus and eye contact
  • Difficulty standing up
  • Stumbling
  • Swaying, staggering
  • Speaking loudly, then quietly
  • Difficulty remembering
  • Slow response to questions

After that list is a reminder to the trainee that drinking while on duty is against the law because serving alcohol responsibly requires a clear head. That kind of got me because we weren’t serving alcohol. We were just checking IDs. Still, it was part of the training. After that little pause, another bulleted list of “More Signs of Visible Intoxication”.

  • Can’t find mouth with glass
  • Mussed hair
  • Disheveled clothing
  • Loud and unruly
  • Urging other people to have another drink
  • Annoying other guests or servers
  • Aggressive or belligerent
  • Making inappropriate comments about others
  • Foul language
  • Sullen, moody

After having all of this read to us I was convinced that the list was made specifically for me because I have almost every one of those problems without ever consuming alcohol. The first set of bullets apply to me from the time I get up in the morning until after I have my afternoon meal. After the meal, the bottom set of bullets apply. Except for the foul language. I don’t do that. Can’t say I’ve never been guilty of that, but I don’t practice that form of communication any more. It’s not productive. Diane said.

While at Riverfest, I had a chance to greet Taylor and find out how school in Las Vegas is going for her. She was working in her Mom’s Yo Place Frozen Yogurt trailer.

Yesterday was a fun day in the yard for all of us. Jewel is a gem, no pun intended, and a hard worker. It’s to our advantage that she loves digging in the dirt. Diane decided that she would try mowing the lawn which turned into an adventure for both her, and me. I found some really good face masks that allowed her to be in the open air, covered with grass clippings, and still breathe normally. Without it she would have been so choked up she’d’ve had to stay in side. Grass is her main nemesis. That and strong perfume.

Anyway, I got her moving on the lawn mower, after jump starting it, then turned her loose. Since I forgot to show her about putting the ignition key in the correct position for mowing in reverse, I had to drag a battery and cables to her and get the mower going again. Then she did an absolutely perfect job mowing the front yard. Things went south when she moved around to the side yard and she discovered that getting around trees posed a problem for novice lawn mowers. First, she ran into the holly tree and killed the engine. That required another jump-start. Then she dropped one of the front wheels into a hole and killed the engine for another jump-start. The last one was when she got tangled up in the grape vines and couldn’t extract herself. Another jump-start. It got to the point that whenever I heard the mower stop I just deserted my blackberry vine eradication efforts and took the batter to wherever she was. The most entertaining episode, however, didn’t involve a killing the engine, but almost killing herself, so to speak. She was mowing around a low hanging forsythia, thinking it couldn’t be all that hard to slowly mow under the dangling branches. I just happened to look up and saw her flying out from under the branches at full speed, leaning back as far as she could to avoid contact, and it looked like she was riding a bucking bronco. All she would have had to do was put one hand in the air to prove she wasn’t hanging on with both hands. What happened was when she leaned back she pushed the forward hydrostatic clutch lever all the way down and didn’t realize it as she fought to extract herself from the scratchy branches with minimal injury. It took her a good 30 feet to stop because she was going downhill, and when I got to her she was in hysterics, having a great time. It was really funny, and I’m glad she didn’t hurt herself. Just wish I could’ve had a video camera at the ready when I saw her take off.

Since nothing can top the mower episode, I’m going to quit. Diane’s looking forward to finishing up the back yard tomorrow. I’ll be standing by with the camera this time.

Cheers!

Golf, Lunch, Hair Cut, Bike Ride, Dump Truck, & The Lawn Mower

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I golfed in this morning then had lunch with Doug and Junior. We all had McBurgerville Crispy Chicken sandwiches. None of us had fries which was good because none of us need fries. None of us needed a deep-fried chicken breast, either, but we ate them anyway.

After lunch I went to Great Clips and got a haircut from Misty. She’s a local girl who is going to New York this summer to attend her boy friend’s brother’s wedding and she gets to go and meet the family. She’s excited, of course, because she’s never travelled, and she’s never been on an airplane. We’re all hoping that she doesn’t puke, or something. I’ve never met Misty before so learning all this “stuff” was kinda fun.

After I got home I got my bike out and rode to Diane’s Mom’s (Jean’s) house and back. About two miles, uphill both ways. Going was fine, but had to stop pedaling and walk a while when my left arm started going numb. I figured that probably wasn’t a good thing and my legs were all into walking instead of pedaling. Mom and I visited for a while, then I assisted her with washing the filters in her furnace air cleaner. Assisting Jean means staying out of her way and helping only when asked. I’m good at that because her daughter, my First Wife, is exactly the same way. She earned from The Master.

When I got home I sat a bit, drank three glasses of water, then drove the old truck down by the burn pile and emptied the debris Jeff left in the back. It was mostly bad wood and is now on the burn pile awaiting a hot fire.

I contemplated mowing the lawn in the afternoon but decided to not press my luck by working too hard in one day. I consider taking a nap, too. I could do that because Diane is sequestered in the County Court House once again. She said she’s working on the election counting board, but I think it’s community service for yelling at the stupid drivers she encounters on the road. She denies it, of course. In lieu of mowing the yard, I decided to use the electric weed whacker and edge the sidewalk and flower beds. That entailed a trip to the back yard to get an extension cord long enough. It was in the back yard because I left it there, along with the battery charger, the last time I tried to mow the yard. Had to recharge the batteries.

I hooked up two cords and went to work and almost made it around the east corner of the house before I yanked the cords apart. Had I tied the cords together, like I usually do, that wouldn’t have happened, but I thought I might need that extra 6 inches of cord to do the job. Didn’t work. That meant a trip to the basement to get another cord, which I did. The extra length allowed me to zip around all the areas I wanted to zip around. When done, I meticulously wound the cords up and laid them on a pile of “things” in the garage. Having done the edges, I figured I may as well mow, but first I should probably trim the low hanging limbs on the tree by the sidewalk. I like it tall enough that I can walk under it whenever I want to. That doesn’t happen often, but I want it that way, just in case. I trim it by holding my battery-powered hedge trimmer above my head while slowly walking back and forth under the tree, trimming as I go. Works great. Just as I got going, the battery died and the spare was already dead. After searching around for the plug-in units for the hedge trimmer battery chargers, I found them buried under a bunch of chairs we don’t use in the corner of the garage. Tangled up with those chargers was the one for the little yellow jumper battery I have, so I plugged that in, too.

Since I had to wait for the batteries to charge, and I was way beyond wanting a nap, I thought I may as well fire up the lawn mower and get what I could. I went down stairs, jumped on the mower, turned the key, and nothing happened. I did this a few times before surrendering to the understanding that the battery was dead, too. I the charger from the lower patio which was near by, went back up to the garage for the extension cords I had recently removed from the lower patio, and got it plugged in. When things like this happen I always think that I should have upstairs and downstairs extension cords to eliminate all that walking up and down. I admit, however, that all that walking is a good thing. That’s one of the reasons I have all my tools in the basement. When I need a wrench I make a fairly educated guess at what size I need then go to the basement and get it. It’s always the wrong size so I have to go back and get the correct wrench. I do this for each task which some may think is a bit eccentric, which it is, but it’s the way I exercise. Kinda dumb, I know.

Now, while all the batteries are charging, I had nothing to do until I caught sight of the blackberries that were encroaching the area were we are growing our own bird feed from the seeds the birds scatter all over the place. They are interesting. I think pretty soon they will be tall and strong enough for Breezie to climb all the way to the bird feeders instead of jumping.

Thinking the charger had been on the mower long enough to get it going, I gave it a shot. It started right up, so I went to the burn pile to get the grass catcher attachments. That’s where I left them the last time I mowed. I don’t remember how long ago that was, but I’m sure lots snakes and rats appreciated the cover during the last few rainy days we had. I always enjoy helping the wildlife in the area.

Mowing went well until I emptied the jam-packed bags and headed out for the final round on the front yard. Then guess what happened. Yup. Ran out of gas and I didn’t have any.

At this point I decided to bow to the wisdom of whatever spirit was trying to tell me I wasn’t supposed to mow the yard today. At least, not all of it. So, there sits the mower in the front yard. Almost done, but not quite.

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Perhaps tomorrow.

Diane’s home. She was released from the County Jail about an hour ago and stopped to talk with her Mom on the way home. Mom told her I rode my bike down to the house so she probably should look for me laying alongside the road on her way up the hill. That’s pretty kind of her to be so concerned about my welfare, don’t you think?

Yesterday, Last Night, & This Morning

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Diane was released from the County Courthouse this morning and she got home at 0450 after 18 straight hours on the job. She was very tired when she drug herself through the front door (which I left unlocked for her). This was expected, however, because it’s a long drawn out process with specific requirements for each step involved. I don’t know them all, since I’m not a member of that inner circle, but I can speculate about what I “think” I know.

Like, signatures. Every ballot is signed by the voter and the signature is validated by one of the volunteers against a database of voters signatures which are kept in a special vault by the men’s bathroom. That’s unfortunate because the person who does the counting isn’t technically allowed to use the men’s restroom due to the nature of her physical characteristics.

Regarding that … bathrooms. There’s such a huge argument about which bathroom a transgender person should use which I think is totally asinine. Instead of building new restrooms for to accommodate people who aren’t quite sure which one to use, why not just rip out all the fixtures in public facility restrooms and install porta pottys. They are private and every gender imaginable can use them. In schools, for safety, I suspect they should be bolted to the floor so no one can tip them over.

Another alternative would be to build a separate structure, like I’ve seen in some campgrounds, that has a row of doors on each side that doesn’t indicate gender. Each door opens to a small private bathroom that can be used on a first come, first served basis. The signage on the door is either “Occupied” or “Available”. For students who can’t read, “Occupied” is RED, and “Available” is GREEN which has universal meaning all its own. For those who are both illiterate and color blind, there is always the simple test of trying to open the door. If it opens and there’s someone else already in there, they obviously don’t care if they have visitors regardless of gender. Or, they just forgot to lock the door. I’m sure the School Board would be open to establishing a special class to teach students how to recognize simple clues like I’ve mentioned in order to avoid a law suit. Pretty simple. Sadly, anything that requires a committee always winds up being complicated and expensive.

I’m sure that some of you are wondering what I was doing while Diane was working so hard. Well, I think I mentioned that I mowed all three acres of our lawn during the early afternoon, then I took Cedric to his DEP (Delayed Entry Program) meeting at the Navy recruiter’s office by the Hillsboro airport. While he was inside learning, I steeped a couple of doors down and had a wonderful Chinese meal of orange chicken and noodles for $8 at a very small establishment. One of those little family run holds in the wall places. Beats the commercial outfits every time. Then I sat in the Diane’s truck, which allowed me to drive, and read my book until my iPad ran out of juice. Then I drove Cedric to the Scappoose McDonald’s where he bought his supper, then dropped him at Grace Baptist Church where he helps with their Youth Group. The entire Walters family helps with all of the Youth Groups at church. They are busy.

Then I went home and let dogs out. Yes, I’m the one who lets the dogs out. That song is about me.

After fiddling with Diane’s fancy remote – she has one of those Xfinity things that you can talk to – I decided to just watch one of the movies I had recorded. It was “Tomorrowland”. I really liked it and would like to watch it again with Diane, when she wakes up. I also watched “Ant Man”, which was OK, but not something Diane would enjoy, and three episodes of “Quantico”. There might have been an episode of “Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.” in there, too. It’s a little hazy.

The weather changed this afternoon, after we finished golfing. Went to the course at 0900 this morning, dog tired, and did pretty good. Can’t tell you what my score was because that’s not important. I can report, however, that I nearly had a birdie (got a par instead), and I only had 8 on one hole. The rest of them were 5’s and 6’s, maybe one 7, too. After golf we (Doug, Junior, and me) went to Burgerville for lunch and talked briefly about all the folks our age who are checking out to The Great Beyond which is a song by R.E.M and an Australian store that sell clothing made from bamboo. Who knew? For the purposes of my narrative, I mean that they died. Perhaps you knew that, but I had to clarify. Most recently was the lost of another class mate who decided to end it himself. No one I’ve talked with, so far, understands why. Then, Junior’s neighbor died and he’s been asked to be a pall bearer. All this is happening not long after Junior and Doug lost their very good friend, Mike Barnes. Golfing is a good way for us all to put all those dark thoughts aside and enjoy the day.

I think this is enough.

Oh! Tomorrow Diane and I are going to The Dalles to watch the St. Helens Lady Lions varsity softball team participate in a playoff game for state. Lydia and her friend, Ceirra, were both called up to play so we will, naturally, go watch. It’s only a simple 2.5 hour drive, but that’s one of Diane’s favorite things to do. No one expects the team to advance very far, but you just never know which way that ball will bounce. So, we go.