A trip in the trailer, Lydia, Ceierra, Ziva, & Jeran

I did not realize that it’s been over a week since my last posting so there’s a lot to catch up on.

First, and almost the most important thing, I got to golf with the Peal brothers on Friday the 31st of March then again yesterday. The most important thing, really, was getting to watch Lydia play softball a couple of times. They were pre-season games against more powerful schools so the outcome was predictable – they lost all of them. But, they were fun to watch and they had fun playing. That’s the important thing. They were supposed to have their season league opener this evening, at home, but it was cancelled because it’s been raining, a lot, and the school doesn’t have a decent field for the girls to play on. So, it was a muddy mess and the game was cancelled. So, I took that opportunity to mow the yard, in the rain, with the hopes of keeping it low enough so Ozzie doesn’t get lost when he goes outside. Then, wouldn’t you know it, the sun came out, dried everything off, and it’s actually a perfect afternoon for a softball game. Sad.

In between those two golf events Diane and I took our trailer to Fort Stevens State Park on the Oregon Coast so we could participate in the SOLVE Beach Cleanup. I’ve mentioned this in the past (way long time ago). It’s simply an event held twice a year where anyone can join the effort to keep Oregon Beaches clean. It’s amazing what kind, and the amount, of trash is removed by the voluntary clean up crews. Last I heard the total was over 27.5 tons. That’s a lot of “stuff” to haul off the beach in little plastic bags. For our part, Diane and I managed to remove a considerable amount of small plastic pieces and a few hypodermic needles. A small but significant contribution.

Other than the trip to clean the beach, and a couple of other walks on the beach so Ziva could run willy nilly, we spent our time in the trailer, listening to the rain, reading our books. No wi-fi, spotty phone reception, so it was very quiet most of the time. Diane took an afternoon off to visit Goodwill, leaving Ziva and me at ‘home’ to fend for ourselves. We had a good time taking walks and just sitting around. My prize for being good was a DQ chocolate malt. I love those things. Give didn’t get a prize because dogs don’t get prizes. Instead, I gave her a treat. She was happy about that so it was all good.

I got a message from brother Jack giving me a little more info about what’s going on with him in Arizona. As many of you know, he’s got prostate cancer. He recently started receiving radiation treatments which he must endure for 5-10 minutes every day through the end of May. His new motto is “I’m not dying of cancer, I’m living with is.” That sounds pretty optimistic to me. I’m pretty sure that all those praying for him are having an effect so keep on focusing good thoughts his direction.

Now for some photos to end the day …

Diane and I had PB&J sandwiches, Ziva got the empty jar. That sounds mean, I’m sure, but she loved it.

Just another ho-hum sunset on the Oregon Coast.

Ziva investigating miles and miles of driftwood.

Taking a break, guarding Mom’s Peeps.

Nap time …

Back home to the overgrown yard. Thankfully the little yellow flowers are back. I was afraid they wouldn’t show up this year for some reason. Silly me, because they always show up. The trick is to keep them mowed down so they don’t turn into those fuzzy things that fly seeds everywhere. My up-wind neighbors don’t do that.

These always show up, too. More and more each year.

So do the peonies.

Then there’s Alice, the neighbor’s yorkie, in a standoff with one of their chickens. Alice chased the chicken all the way home, then back to the same spot. Fun to watch. I think the chicken has fun with it.

Then Jennifer sent these to share … Ceierra, Lydia’s best friend, and her new prom dress.

And Lydia in her prom dress.

Quite stunning for a couple of jocks.

I didn’t get a photo of Jeran giving his testimony yesterday evening at the Junior High Youth Group at his church, but I can tell you it was a very emotional story about how and when he found his faith in God. He will be 17 next month and knows pretty much exactly what his future will be. We’re very proud of him.

Cheers.

March Madness, Softball, and a Puppy

The games have already begun and according to the bracket I made here I’m already a loser. Well, some may say I was already a loser for various other things I’ve said and done, but I’m thinking I don’t really care about that. But the brackets … Only two games played so far and I missed on both. Now I can only hope that none of my picks win so I’ll still have a nice clean bracket of choices, all with little ‘x’s’ in a circle to indicate the loss. My one consolation with regard to this is that ‘Bing’ lost both of them, too.

I’m guessing that many of you couldn’t care less about NCAA basketball. That’s kind of me, too, until this time of year when things get exciting. It’s way more fun than watching the pros play. My opinion, of course.

It’s still raining here, but we did have one glorious day of sunshine when we drove to Eugene to watch the lovely Maryssa Santi play some fast pitch softball for Eastern Oregon University. It’s like God looked down on us and decided to give us a nice day to sit in the sun and watch the games. They played four games over two days (Sunday & Monday) and won all four. We only got to watch 1 and 3/4 of those games, but it was fun.

Lydia brought her new family member, Kylo, along for the 2.5 hour ride because he’s only 5 weeks old and is hard to put down. He’s kinda cute. This is Matt holding him, trying to keep him calm. Yeah, like that’s a problem because he sleeps about 90% of the time.

On the way, Lydia gnawed on the breakfast burrito she bought at Muchas Gracias before we picked up her and her Mom, Jennifer for the ride. I probably could have eaten one of those, too, but no one asked. I’ve had them before and they are really good.

EOU won the first game 7-4 and they were ahead 7-1 when we had to leave during the late innings of the 2nd game. They won that one, too, 9-5. On Monday EOU won 10-1 and 1-0 (I think). It was a good trip for the girls to win all four games on the road like that.

Now, back to the puppy …

 

Here’s Maryssa #10, 2nd base … she’s a junior at EOU.

Here’s Steffani, Maryssa’s Mom, Bob’s Wife, My Brother’s Daughter …

Here’s Maryssa and Lydia, Diane (in the hat), and Jennifer …

And that pretty much covers the trip. The puppy slept through the 5 hour trip, interrupted by a couple of softball games during which he was adored, and held, by all the pretty girls who walked by. Guys seem to be more immune to puppy cuteness than girls.

Lucky dog.

Kylo joins Solo (a big dog) and Boba the cat. Perhaps you can sense the ‘Star Wars’ theme for the Walter’s Family Pets.

To the Moon and back, Part dos

Yesterday I believe I was in the middle of a narrative about going to the Moon. Well, not really the moon, because I really don’t know where we went and there was never a moon view from the only window to which I had access. Nope, I was sequestered in what I believe was a small portion of a very large facility that’s located on the dark side of the Moon so all visual reference was forever aimed at deep space. That’s a guess, of course. Then again, they could have taken me to another galaxy, far, far away because they were able to fool the laws of physics, as we understand them, and take advantage of folds in space about which much is speculated on Earth. But, if I was on the moon I would weigh less, right? I didn’t feel lighter so I probably really wasn’t on the moon.

Right after discovering my speculation about my location I suffered a period of unconsciousness of unknown duration. It could have been seconds, days, or weeks. Probably weeks because I felt nicely rested when I woke up. Perhaps I just had a nap. One of those dreamless ones. That happens sometimes but is only a problem when I’m driving. I knew I was in a different location because the furnishings had changed from lite modern to country sheik.

This afternoon Ringo came to my room and told me that I was still on Earth at their facility that’s located in a hidden storeroom in the back of the new Bi Mart in Scappoose. Lot’s of folks wondered how Scappoose wound up with a Bi Mart so close to Fred Meyers. Now we know. Aliens built it. Through the small window mounted high on the wall all I could see was sky so I had to take Ringo’s word for it. He went on to explain that the reason we were at Bi Mart was because they have the parts needed to repair the damage George did to the landing craft, but it was on back order and wouldn’t be available for 3 weeks. That’s how long it takes for them to get resupplied from their Moon base. So, I was stuck in Bi-Mart for the next three weeks. To make up for the delay, Ringo gave me a stack of coupons I could use in the store when they finally released me. I thought that was pretty nice of him at the time but later learned that everyone in town received those same coupons in the mail on a regular basis.

I think I left off yesterday where I was just becoming aware of ‘things’ when Brucette stepped out of the shower. Considering the nature of Brucette’s skill and training, I suspect more than one of you were intrigued at the mental vision this may have created. Well, it’s not what you think. You see, these folks don’t really shower. When they get dirty they just shed their skin, like a snake, and keep on keeping on. Using the shower is a handy way to get rid of the evidence because all the discarded skin is water-soluble and easily washed down the drain. Because of this, you’d think water is very dangerous for them and make them melt. Not the case at all. The water merely removes the first layer of skin, of which they have about 128 layers that keep replenishing themselves. So, though Brucette was indeed naked her fake beauty was overshadowed by the bis of still dissolving skin clinging to her torso. If she’d stayed in the shower a bit longer I suspect they would have all gone away but apparently she was in a hurry. It wasn’t one of those ‘sights for sore eyes’, believe me.

The next time I woke up, not knowing that I had fallen asleep, I was laying on an exam table, just like the one they use on the Mother Ship. As I pondered my situation I became aware of a lightness making me think I was no longer on Earth. This was verified with Elton appeared with that big shiny reflector strapped around his head like doctors used before good flashlights were created. You know, it has a hole in the middle of it through which the doc looked while directing the reflected light on what he was looking at.

One of these …

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Elton didn’t really need it because they actually have state of the art lighting on the Mother Ship. He wears it as a fashion statement and, I think, as an attempt to put me at ease because he’s acting like a doctor. I know better because I’ve been here before. Many times over the past 52 years. I didn’t understand why they kept taking me over and over, doing the same tests, looking at all the same parts, over and over. Turns out that everyone on Earth is assigned a number and they select abductees based on a random draw and my number just keeps coming up.

“Once someone is selected to be abducted, why not leave their number out of the pool for the next drawings?” I asked during one abduction.

“Well,” said Elton, “you see, we are from Uranus and our rues are very strict about how abductees are selected. The numbers aren’t really drawn from a hat like we told you before. We use a computer to make the selection. Since you are just a number on a monitor we can’t very well remove the number. It’s always there. You could, conceivably, be selected numerous times in a row but the chances of that happening are astronomical.”

That’s actually the most words I ever heard come out of Elton’s mouth. Yes, they have mouths. They actually look just like us but learning that they originate from Uranus might make you wonder.  I was stunned because I had no idea that Elton could verbalize a coherent thought. During all previous visits all he did was issue commands to me like, ‘turn your head and cough’, ‘stick out your tongue’, ‘squeeze my fingers as hard as you can’, ‘turn to the right’, ‘stand on one leg and hop’, routine stuff like that. I just figured he was giving me a physical like they do in schools to make sure you can play sports without dying.

“Why do you do the same tests on me? Don’t you have the results from the last time?” I asked.

“We have protocols,” is all he said. Protocols. Right. Time tested protocols. Just like that guy you call for help troubleshooting your new computer because it won’t do something it’s supposed to and he (always a He) starts reading to you the protocol he’s supposed to use to determine the cause of the problem. He must go through every step on his guide even though you’ve already told him that the video card is smoked. No, he’s got to test everything before he can authorize shipment of the replacement part. After two hours he determines that the video card is bad and arranges to ship a new one. That’s a hypothetical example, or course.

So, I once again endured the protocols after which I was given an injection. They’d never done that before so I had to ask, “what’s that for?”

“Oh, there’s a bug going around up here,” said Elton, “and we don’t want to contaminate the humans.” Then he asked if I was allergic to eggs or egg products.

Just for fun I said, “Yes. Yes I am.”

“That’s OK because there’s nothing in the shot related to eggs of any type.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“Protocol,” he said.

“You’ll be transported back to Earth shortly. Do you have to use the bathroom?”

“No,” I replied, “but I’d like to look around a little if it’s OK.”

“Sure,” he said. “Just don’t open any of the doors that have large red ‘X’s’ on them.”

So, I got up and wandered around the room and found three doors, two of which had the red ‘X’s’ on them. The third one had a happy face on it and looked promising. So I approached it and looked all over for some sort of knob that may open it. Behind me I heard Elton say, “Push on the door to open it.” I did that and, hey!, it popped right open just like one of those cupboard doors that have magnetic spring locks.

Behind the door was rod from which hung all of Elton’s clothes. Apparently it was a closet. Behind me I heard laughing as he enjoyed his little joke. That made me a bit angry so I turned and rushed to one of the ‘X’ marked doors with the intention of pushing on it but stopped short when I heard Elton yell out, “Noooooooo!”

Then I woke up fully clothed in my bed. At home. Mom was standing over me, wide-eyed, asking me if I was OK. It was really nice that Mom was there but a little odd, too, because Mom died in 2001.

“Crap.” I thought. “Elton sent me to the wrong reality, again.” He’s done that before. Probably on purpose. I’m sure it wasn’t protocol. Now I had to find out where Ringo lived in this reality so he could help send me back the proper reality. For the moment, though, I just said, “Hi, Mom,” and gave her a big hug. I haven’t had one of those in a long time.

Maybe I was just dreaming.

Diane’s fixing to take her Mom, Jean, shopping. That means I’ll be left unsupervised for a few hours so I’m going to the basement to play with some of my power tools. I do that when she leaves because her parting words when leaving me alone are, “don’t use any tools that plug into the wall!” It’s a warning and I know, but I prefer to take it as a challenge. It doesn’t always work out well for me but today I need to be really careful because I won’t have transportation to get me to the emergency room. I’ve driven myself there a few times and I always get into trouble for it. It’s just my renegade nature, I suspect.

Ciao.

To the Moon and back

A funny thing happened the last time I was in orbit and I thought you might like to hear about it. As far as I know this information does not violate any confidentiality agreements to which I am legally bound and that’s irrelevant because I can’t remember all that stuff anyway. So, I’m sharing. I’m sharing the parts I remember, that is.

First there was the routine abduction, something I’m so familiar with now that I rarely lose conscientious when they stab me in the eye with that incredibly bright light.

They use a variant of the flash bang commonly deployed by special forces personnel on most of the TV shows I watch. I think the police also use them as a way to stun a crowd into submission. The difference is that the version they use only has the flash part because the bang aspect would draw too much attention to the other patrons at Starbucks, where they normally arrange their snatch and grabs. Snatch and grab is not my choice of words, it’s theirs. They told me. I have no idea why they use that term, but they do. So, there I was at Starbucks, the one across the street from Wal-Mart*, when Ringo (ya, that’s what he calls himself) approached me and reached into his pocket for the flash light he always carries.

“Ringo,” I said. “Do you really have to do this? I mean, I’ll just go with you. You don’t have to blind me.”

After a short pause to gather his wits, he responded “but this is procedure. We always do it this way.”

“But I’m a compliant abductee. Haven’t I always gone along with pretty much everything you’ve asked me to do?”

“A … ya … I guess. But I like using my light. It’s fun.” At that point he whipped out the light and pointed it at my right eyeball and was in the process of activating it. Just before he pressed the button I moved my spoon, which I always carry in my right hand, most of the time, anticipating events like this, to cover my right eye with the convex surface point away from me. When he pushed the button the flash ricocheted off my spoon and harmlessly scattered throughout the room.

You might think this would have caused some sort of commotion amongst all those Starbucks customers but virtually all of them were fixated on their electronic device of choice and ignoring everything around them except the caffeinated drink gripped tightly in they dominate hand. Those with laptops sometimes released their drinks so they could use both hands on their keyboards, but that never lasted long.

“Oh, man,” said Ringo, “now I have to do this the old way,” at which point he reached over and grabbed me by the ear, a universally known method of forcing compliance, and marched me right out of that coffee shop and into the waiting sedan at the curb. All the way I was yelling “Ow, ow ow …” but he just qualified his action by adding, “Wait until your Mother finds out what you’ve been doing,” which is just another proven method of forcing compliance. No one wants to upset their Mom.

Once in the car I greeted to George, Ringo’s accomplice, who was always the driver. Also in the car was Brucette, their suductress, who is only put into play should all other forms of abducting fail. Brucette was very good at her job but she’s never had to work her wiles on my because I’ve always gone along nicely. That’s why I couldn’t figure out why Ringo and George had to make taking me such a big deal.

The sedan sped away from the curb before I had a chance to buckle up and I was slammed into the back seat just as I was about to sit. After speeding around a corner, onto Highway 30, I found myself unceremoniously draped across both Ringo and Brucette’s laps. Brucette thought it was an opportunity to practice her art and started brushing the hair out of my eyes and rubbing my back. I tried to extract myself from her embrace but she held me in place (she’s very strong) even when Ringo grabbed my ear again tried to yank me to a sitting position. But Brucette held on tight. Consequently, the pain was exquisite and at the same time comforting. She was that good.

“Brucie,” said Rambo quietly, releasing the tension on my ear, “let him go. You know the rules. Passengers in vehicles are required to wear seat belts on this planet.” She bowed her head a bit, looked up at him demurely, then reluctantly let me go. That was scary. I know how George drives so getting a seatbelt on was imperative.

Just as I heard the seat belt click into place I also heard the squeal of tires, the prelude to an impending crash.

When I woke up I had no idea where I was or how long I had been napping. It must have been a while because I was aware of the reduced gravity which could only mean I was on the Mother Ship. Again. Just once I wish they ‘d let me enjoy the trip up but, nooo, they had to stick to their stupid doctrine. When full awareness finally dawned on my abused body I heard a swish as the bathroom door opened and Brucette stepped out of the shower … … Oops. Gotta stop and help Diane find the waffle iron. Apparently we’re having breakfast.

I’ll get back to this later. Maybe tomorrow.

Day 29 – The Trip Home and Senior Night Soccer

The evening before we left, Ruth called to wish us a safe trip home. We missed the call because neither of us had our phone sound off. When Diane discovered this she called Ruth back and they had a nice talk during which I heard Diane say, more than once, “Oh, no!” This got me interested so I listened a little harder and determined that something bad had happened, but it wasn’t a health issue. What happened was, while Ruth was working with Ovide, preparing tons of food for a Lions International event, someone broke into her house and stole all her jewelry. Nothing big was removed, just small stuff that could easily be carried. They also emptied all of her dresser drawers onto the floor. She discovered the break-in when she returned home from her exhausting day at 2200. The police were summoned and now she must fight her insurance company for just compensation.

We got up at 0415 to sweep the room for personal belongings, get checked out, and get to the rental place before 0600. We beat the 0600 deadline fo turning the car in by 15 minutes but that wasn’t really difficult because the Norfolk Airport was only 6 miles away.

After the car was checked in, and unloaded, Diane asked the Dollar Rental Car Guy is there was a shuttle to the terminal. He looked at her and said, “It’s a 2-minute walk”, and pointed to a path, “right through there.” Indeed, we could actually see the terminal from where we stood, but hurking all those suitcases in the dark just didn’t appeal. Still, we shouldered the bags with handles, and got the suitcases ready for that 2-minute walk.

Just then a really nice Dollar Rental Car Lady, from Georgia, came to get the car and said, “You can’t walk to the terminal in the dark. You never know what can happen. Get in the car and I’ll take you to there.” So, we put all the luggage back in the car and she drove us to the American terminal. It was an unexpected act of kindness, but we wished she had appears about 10 minutes earlier, when all the luggage was still in the car.

At the terminal, I requested an upgrade to First Class, and was prepared to pay whatever it cost. But, since we used air miles for the original seat, it couldn’t be upgraded. But. the second leg from Chicago home was already First Class so the apparently qualified us to get First Class treatment for our luggage. We were able to check all four bags for free, even the overweight one.

The Norfolk to Chicago leg was on a much smaller passenger plane than we’ve encountered during our travels. There were only six First Class seats (three of them remained empty for the flight), and the coach seating was two seats on either side of the center aisle. Cozy. The big plus was that there was far more leg room on this little guy than we had on the big one from Chicago to Bradley on the way over. Interesting. It was comfortable so we were just fine. Plus, it was only a two-hour trip.

In Chicago we spent about half of our 1-hour layover in the USO lounge, and the other half walking the 2 miles from Gate G-7 to Gate K-5. The Rotunda, where the USO is, was on the way so it was convenient. I ate a bagel and Diane had a banana while waiting.

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We arrived at K-5 just in time to sit down for about 30 seconds before they called the First Class folks to board. So we did. We had seats 3B and 3C which turned out to be the front row on the right side of the plane. We had all the room we needed to stretch out and enjoy the flight. The food sucked and the service was good, but the food sucked. Did I mention that the food sucked? Everything except the shrimp. The shrimp didn’t suck. Fortunately, I got to eat all of those.

Regarding the food … when the flight attendant got to our row, in the front, she explained that, since we were flying West, she had to start serving from the back of First Class so she was all out of the Roasted Chicken Salad. All she had left was the Cheese Ravioli’s in White Sauce. Diane explained that she was lactose intolerant and could  not eat the raviolis and would just have to go hungry. The flight attendant said, “maybe I have a solution,” then left for the flight deck. She returned with the First Officer’s salad and gave it to Diane telling her that she owed the First Officer a big thank you. Really? The reason for the shortage, we learned, was because First Class passengers can pre-order their meals on-line. Nifty for those who know. It worked out, however, and we were both fed. The ravioli’s sucked, but I ate them anyway. I may have mentioned that already. Part of the problem with the ravioli’s is that I just don’t like them to begin with and they were just worse because there was no meat inside of them. Just cheese. The wrong kind of cheese. I know, I should just be grateful that I had something to eat, and I truly was. So, perhaps, the food really didn’t suck. Maybe I just didn’t care for it. The shrimp made up for whatever was wrong with the rest of it that I didn’t like.

Once we were airborne out of Chicago Diane and I plugged our little Apple ear buds into the plane’s system and watched “Central Intelligence”. It was a funny movie and we both laughed right out loud a few times. I suspect we woke up the guy across the aisle from us more than once but he didn’t complain. After the movie we both read for a bit then napped, and when we looked out the little window and saw this, we knew we must be close.

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When the plane finally made it to the terminal, and we stepped inside, we were happy campers. When we discovered where the terminal was located with respect to the baggage claim area, we weren’t happy campers. But, we trudged on. I thought we’d be in pretty good shape because it appeared that we were just down the road from where the Alaska planes come and go, and that was essentially true. But we weren’t “just down the road.” We were “waaay down the road.” Matter of fact, I’m sure that the walk from the very tippy end of the American terminal to the baggage area accounted for about 2 miles of the 3.5 miles we walked in airports this day. Really.

I’m basing this claim on the fact that we travelled down three (3), count them, three moving walk-ways that are separated by about 50 yards and are each about 100 yards long. Then, once we made it down to the baggage claim area we had to walk all the way to carousel 9, there are 10 of them. The escalators from the gates drops folks off between 2 and 3. As we continued, and finished this epic trip I couldn’t help but think that we were being subjected to some form of punishment that those who ride American Airlines airplanes are subjected to on a routine basis. In Portland, Alaska Airlines is just a short hop and a skip from where they land to where they drop the luggage, on carousel 2 and/or 3.

There is a plus side to the baggage area, I must admit. Once the carousel started turning, in the wrong (clockwise) direction, of all the bags that came out of the little shute in the wall, our four were in the first 10 bags. Amazing! That’s never happened to us before. We’ve always had to wait until everyone else got theirs before ours showed up. We chalked this up to the bright orange PRIORITY labels the lady in Norfolk attached to the baggage claim tags on all four bags. That was huge.

Once we got the bags, we trundled our way outside to await our lovely daughter, Jennifer. She had snagged Diane’s truck the previous day in preparation for picking us up. When we hit the ground we texted her, letting her know that we would be at the American terminal, not Alaska – they are at opposite ends, as I mentioned. At that time she was on her sixth trip around past the arrival terminals. By the time she parked in front of us she was just completing her tenth circuit of the airport. It was good because the truck is bigger than she’s used to so it gave her lots of time to get used to driving it in heavy traffic. This guy must have been in a hurry to go fishing with whoever he was picking up. Interesting.

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Jennifer did a terrific job and got us home safe and sound. Well, almost home. Diane wanted to stop at Means Nursery so she could get some roses for Lydia, Ceiarra, and Nina (a Denmark exchange student). They are the only seniors on the team and tonight was Senior Night.

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Our Lydia …

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Lydia, Nina, and Ceiarra …

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Our arrival home was heralded by the happy barks of our three dogs, and cold weather. After enjoying mid-70 weather for the past month it feels like it’s about 12 degrees here. The cat couldn’t care less that we were home and just walked away. After all the excitement, and all of them had been properly scratched and petted, Jewel returned from her trip to DMV where she had registered her “new” vehicle. She did a great job of keeping the animals healthy and the flowers fed with her broken wrist. Thankfully, she had help from The Walters clan when needed. Like for opening cans, tearing tops off of packages, using scissors, etc. She resorted to eating food that didn’t need to be cut up so she could feed herself.

Back to soccer, sadly, our girls lost 2-0. Our girls weren’t playing together very well and allowed the Hillsboro strikers too much freedom. Both goals got past Lydia, who played the first half of the game. The first one was kicked from about the 25-yard line and players were blocking the ball from Lyd’s view. The ball sayed low and by the time she saw it there wasn’t much she could do, but she made a heroic dive worthy of a game highlite. Previous to that, she blocked many close shots on goal from strikers who got by the St. Helens defense. It was amazing to watch. She took at least three hard kicked balls directly into her body and caught them. She also blocked many others away from the goal to her team mates. Additionally, the Hillsboro team missed many kicks wide of the goal so it was just a matter of time before they scored. It was one of those games that could easily have been 12-0, but our Keepers held strong. Another plus at the soccer game was seeing Daniel, Jeran, and Dan’s Mom, Linda, and friends Jacqui and Georgie. Georgie is a recent SHHS graduate, friend of Lydia’s, and a total Girl Soccer Stud.

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When the game was over both Diane and I were exhausted, both from watching the game, and because we had been up since 0100 local time – about 18 hours which is far too long for old people.

So, to bed we went, and we didn’t wake up until 0800 …

… Eastern time.

Guess we’re back on the dog’s schedule just that quick.

Dang.

Day 24 – Virginia Beach

Here I sit on the balcony of our room overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. It’s another warm, clear, beautiful day in Virginia. Diane is sitting near me reading about the weather in Oregon. The news is Oregon is going to exceed the normal rainfall for October by 300%. That’s some serious rain. Many, many inches. Then, coming in behind it is some heavy wind that will, without a doubt, push over a bunch of trees because of the saturated ground around them.

We had a major breakfast at the Jumping Shrimp cafe in the hotel that later in the day caused Diane a bit of abdominal distress causing her to miss an opportunity for supper with me in the USS Cleveland conference room. I put in an appearance and visited a little while, ate 3/4 of a sandwich, and had a root beer before going back to our room to be with her. You’d think after all these years I would be able to spend some time away from her visiting with old friends and shipmates, but it doesn’t work. If Diane isn’t there with me, I don’t enjoy it. Just a sentimental old sap, I guess.

Needless to say, this was the extent of our activity for today. Nothing important to share.

We just took a few naps so we could be rested up for bedtime.

Day 22 – Laundry Day at Fort Lee Lodge, and Lunch

Yes, we must do our laundry while traveling. I suspect most people do except Jack Reacher, who just buys new outfits when it’s time to change clothes, then throws the old stuff away. Before we left I suggested that we take nothing but old underwear, the ones with rips and holes, of which I have a few, and just toss them each day. Diane nixed that idea, at least for her, because you just never know when you might wind up at the doctor’s office in one of those backward gowns.

Me? I brought old underwear.

Even so, we have outer clothes that get soiled and isn’t something we’d throw away until it falls apart because they are always good for working in the yard. Since we are checking out of here tomorrow we need to get things washed today. Matter of fact, the washing machines are running as I write. I might have 15 minutes or so remaining before I must make that long trip down the hall to put them in a dryer. My phone will bark when it’s time.

The upside of doing laundry at the Fort Lee Lodge is that it’s free to use the machines. There are 6 sets on each of the 7 floors, 3 at each end. That’s a lot of washers and dryers, my friend. There’s even a TV in the laundry room. And an A/C unit. A person could just take a book down there and hang out all day if they wanted to.

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Diane didn’t want to. She chose to scour the base in search of the thrift store she saw a couple of times during our trips and left me alone to deal with the drying aspect of laundry. She loaded the washers, kissed m on the cheek, and headed for the parking lot. She took all my quarters, too. So, here I am, unsupervised, tasked with ensure that two special blouses do not make it to the interior of a dryer. The penalty is severe for failing this simple rule.

Thankfully I remembered because when I got back to the room she was sitting on the couch and I had the blouses in my hand. She said the thrift store is not open until Wednesday so we’ll have to go in search of a Goodwill in the civilian world this afternoon, to see what folks in Virginia give away. I can see it in the stars. Really, I can.

On my trip to the laundry room I took this photo so you could get a sense of how long the hallway is. It’s easily 200 yards. That means it’s 100 yards either direction for us because we’re almost dead center in the middle. By the elevators, which is really handy. The young lady, Brittany. who gave us this upgrade did us an enormous favor unless the room is haunted. I don’t think it is, but you just never know in a hotel.

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This is looking the other direction from our room.

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It’s hard to judge the distance in these crappy photos because the lights by the rooms just run together at the far end. Perhaps that’s a good indicator.

The dryers taker 45 minutes to run their cycle and I only have 26 minutes remaining until my phone barks at me again. I feel like I should take a nap, but it’s too early. That’s what I have to keep telling myself. It’s too early.

I’m sure you find all of this very interesting, and can tell that I’m not really full of fun stuff to share. I will, however, share this tender moment that I failed to include on one of the evenings Cedric spent with us.

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Diane caught us both sleeping and snuck up on us. It was very peaceful sitting there with him, knowing he was relaxed and in a good place. Reminds me of when he was little and would do the same thing.

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With the laundry done Diane said it was time for lunch and that I should get busy. She reminded me that yesterday I said I’d cook today. So I did. We had 8 eggs, half an onion, half a potato, 8 pieces of bacon, and a brand new green pepper. There’s no toaster in the room so I improvised by using a pan to toast English muffins on one side. Diane took care of the bacon while I prepared the eggs and everything else.

Since we only have a two burner stove, it was tricky getting it all done in a manner that nothing got cold. Since eggs were last, Diane stacked everything else in the microwave to keep them warm. When the eggs looked done enough to eat I flung a few pieces of cheddar cheese on top and put a lid on until it melted a little. I’d already turned the burner off but hat was just long enough for the bottom of the eggs to crisp up more than I had intended.

It was still good.

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Now I really do think I’m going to take a little nap. Jerrie’s tired and his eyes burn.

Day 17 – Fort Lee Lodge & Other Stuff

Not a lot to write about today because we didn’t do much. Still, I’ll see how far I can stretch this with nothing to say.

We got up earlier than normal, before 9 am, so I took a trip to the main floor for a look at the area where they serve a continental breakfast for folks staying at the Lodge. I think I already mentioned that this place is like a very large Holiday Inn and is, in fact, affiliated with Holiday Inn. If you’ve stayed at one of those you will know that they have a very nice breakfast room. Well, think about that for a second, then expand the room to about 100 x 100 and you’ll get a sense of what this one is like. Seriously, it’s that big. OK, maybe it’s only 100 x 75. Still big.

To the left of the door there is a curving self-serve area with boiled eggs, waffles, french toast, yogurt, milk machines, oatmeal, grits, fruit, toasters, and what looks like an omelet bar that was closed when I got there, that’s about 80 feet long. Around the corner in the seating area, the BIG seating area, is a table with a vast array of coffee pots and things you can put in coffee cups to make it taste better. I was so amazed with this room that I just got a couple of cups of coffee and took them right back up to the room and convinced Diane she needed to put some underwear on and come down with me to look at it.

She did. She was amazed, too. We both ate but I made a bad choice and got french toast and actually put syrup on it. This resulted in an elevated BS level that needed attention with some exercise and water. So, we went outside and walked around the hotel. It took about 15 minutes to do that. I drank a bottle of water on the way. This made my stomach settle down and by BS level was down indicating it was going the right direction. Here’s a bicycle we saw during our walk. It’s been there for a long time. We think it’s probably a loaner bike because we saw more just like it at other bike racks around the base.

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Then Diane decided it was time to visit the commissary to get things to last through the storm, just in case it decided to slam us, too. I already had 8 boiled eggs, from the hotel cafeteria, so egg salad was on the menu. Just needed mustard to make it really good.

While at the commissary, we continued our exercise by walking up and down every isle in the place. We went at a moderate pace, just slow enough to keep from sweating.

There were so many bags of food I had to use the luggage cart to get them to our room. Diane put things away while I took the cart back to the lobby. By the time I returned it was pretty much cleaned up and ready for me to make that egg salad.

I used four eggs which gave us enough for four sandwiches. Since we only ate one each, there’s more for tomorrow. Before I ate, however, I checked my BS again. It was down to 90 and I could tell it was time to eat. I may have salivated a little bit while make the egg salad, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t salivate on the eggs. I’m guessing, of course, because it would’ve blended right in and there was no way to tell for sure. So far, Diane hasn’t displayed any symptoms of sickness of any kind so think I’m good here. Until she reads this. Then it’s lights out and means I’ll get to eat the remainder of the egg salad all by myself. Unless Cedric wants some, of course. We should be picking him up for a day of hanging out, visiting, exploring, and napping. Here’s an off topic photo Cedric sent this afternoon of him in his cooking class uniform.

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This afternoon, when Diane couldn’t find anything interesting on TV, she lay down on the bed and took a very loud nap. I, on the other hand, stayed in the living room portion and watched a movie – “The Fifth Wave”. On my iPad. We don’t know how to watch movies on our TV. Besides, all the channels are analog, not digital. It’s still a good picture, though, so can’t fault them for that. The majority of folks staying here are Army officers, new and old, who are, I believe, affiliated with the Logistics University adjacent to the Lodge.

When the movie was almost over Cedric texted me and we started going back and forth, carrying on a conversation. We didn’t know at the time that the text link he used also included his Mom. I was very thankful that we kept it clean because she surprised us both when she chimed in and commented that while she was gone taking her Mom’s Mom, Jean, to the doctor, she received 87 texts. Neither of us had any idea we had carried on that much.

Now it’s 2230 here and we’re getting updates from Jennifer about the soccer game going on in St. Helens. Our girls were winning 3-0 against Milwaukee. Our girls are 7-2 going in to this game and are ranked 4th in the state. They are doing extremely well. I’m told the Milwaukee girls aren’t taking the beating very well and have started with dirty tactics.

Here’s a pre-game photo that Jennifer took …

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It’s Pink day. Since Lydia’s a goalie she dresses differently than the rest of the team so she didn’t have pink socks. Just pink paint on her face.

Jennie sent the next photo with the comment, “She’s wearing pants.” First time this year. Normally she wears shorts. But, she said it’s raining buckets at home now and I suspect pants would feel pretty good. But I think pants feel pretty good any time of the year.

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Time to quit.

Day 15 – JBAB Anacostia

I didn’t do anything today except help Diane with the laundry. By help I mean I just did whatever she told me to do, of course. After that, she went to the exchange all by herself. I stayed in the room and watched a movie and two episodes of Quantico. I just love our Xfinity because we can watch recorded shows on our DVR from anywhere in the world.

A may have had a nap, too.

Later …

Day 9 – Beach Haven Reunion Banquet

Today all the attendees of this reunion gathered to eat a catered lunch by the hotel in which we’re staying. We already knew the food is good so the prospect of a cafeteria style banquet was not a scary thing. We embraced it.

The banquet was scheduled to start at 11:30 am so we all gathered in the gathering room, next to the banquet room, at 11:00 am to prepare. That, and to produce the gifts we were directed to bring for the auction for which many, many tickets were sold. Because Diane and I were sitting in the gathering room next to the banquet room door, we wound up selling raffle tickets by the dozens. To be precise, we sold $700 worth of raffle tickets. We were busy. One guy, Freddie, bought $80 worth of them.

After we sold all those tickets, we ate. Since Diane and I were the last people into the banquet room, we had to scuffle for a place to sit. That worked out, though, because just as we were heading to our table Ken stood up and ask the room how we should line up for the food. Since I was right behind him, I suggested that we begin with the row of tables next to the wall where Diane, Marvin, and I were sitting. My suggestion was accepted so I just turned around and got in line for food. It was pretty good, but I didn’t take a photo of it. Mainly because I loaded the plate so it wasn’t very pretty. Very good, but not very pretty.

Once the food was devoured it was time to start calling raffle tickets. Now, I gotta share some insight about raffles that I’ve gleaned over the years. The most profound one is that there are always one or two tables in the room that wind up with the majority of winners. It just happens that way Always. Perhaps you’ve noticed this. There were about 14-15 tables in the room, some longer than others and seating 10 instead of 4, so with each shipmate providing at least one gift, adding to those provided by the organizer, there must have been about 150 things to raffle off. Don’t question my math. It’s correct.

During lunch Diane hid the bucket of tickets behind her chair, in the corner. When Ken stood up to start the raffle,  transported the huge bucket to his vicinity so he could kick things off. Simply by virtue of the fact that I transported the tickets I was sucked in to helping out with the drawings, calling out the numbers in a loud voice that everyone bu Ed could hear. Ed won a couple of times but only because when a number was called and no one responded, and it was evident that Ed wasn’t looking at his tickets, Mary gave him a hand.

The rule of raffles is that the person who wins must draw the next number. That worked OK until Freddie finally won and he drew three tickets in a row that matched three of the vast array of tickets he had spread all over his table. As the drawings continued I managed to remember the sequence of tickets Freddie had making it easy to know when he won. Which he did. A lot. He was that guy. He finally got tired of walking to the next room to pick out his next prize and started appointing people to do it in his place. Those around him were very happy.

Every once in a while we stopped calling tickets so Ken could auction off. He was doing a pretty good job, but George jumped in and caused bidders to go way higher than they had intended. George made the group a lot of money on those auction items. Finally, all the auction and raffle items were gone and we were allowed to leave.

I failed to mention that we had a group meeting after lunch, prior to the raffle, during which we talked about where we should have our next reunion. Since the last two were on the East Coast it was unanimously agreed that we should strongly consider the West Coast for the 2018 reunion. We do them every two years. That’s why I put 2018 instead of 2017. You may have wondered. The location discussed for the West Coast reunion was Bremerton. That will work great for us since we live on the West Coast. I wouldn’t be surprised, either, if Diane and I wound up taking care of all the details since we live there even though we didn’t volunteer. That’s how things seem to work out.

After it was all done, around 2:55 pm, Diane and I retired to our room where we sat on our balcony enjoying the breeze caused by bad weather that’s causing the waves to crash into the beach at an angle instead of coming straight in like they were doing yesterday. And the day before. It’s actually very stormy and the weather has turned cold making it uncomfortable to be out there even in a sweatshirt with a hood. So she went back into the room, but I stayed outside for a bit longer just to prove that I’m a man even though Diane already knows that. She’s seen me naked. A couple of times. When I felt I’d made my point, I also went inside.

Then I opened up one of the Xfinity apps on my iPad and discovered that I could actually watch TV shows that are recorded on our DVR at home. That’s amazing! So, I watched two episodes of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and one episode of Quantico. Since Diane was sleeping I used my handy ear buds so I would wake her up. Since I was reclined I managed to fall asleep a few times myself but, since I had the buds in, I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss anything.

Now for some photos for those of you who ventured this far even though I didn’t take very many at the banquet. Just a few. I’ll find some more to share just for fun.

Here’s Diane wearing my Scappoose hat. It fits her way better than me so it’s now her’s.

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She looks good in any kind of hat.

Next is a photo of the head table at the banquet. I said earlier that the longer tables sat 10 people but I lied. There were only 6.

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This next  one Diane took of me helping Ken with the raffle.

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Until I saw this photo I had no idea my right breast was lower than my left one. I guess I don’t usually notice it because of the sports bra. Should have worn it today, I guess. That or that new push-up number I found at Goodwill the other day.

Now, on a more serious note, here’s a photo from the Albany Democrat-herald. It was taken during the game when our St. Helens went all the way down there to whip East Albany 4-3. I guess it was nip and tuck throughout the game, but our girls persevered. That’s our Lydia in the yellow goalie shirt. Jennifer sent four other ones that were also in the paper, all of Lydia doing her thing.

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I guess it’s OK to shove on the goalie’s face in Albany although it didn’t do them any good.

That’s about it.