Category Archives: Opinions

Home At Last, and Other Stuff

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Yes, we’re home. At last.

After a leisurely transit of I-84, an overnight stay at the Wild Horse Casino in Pendleton, and past the site of the Oil Train Fire in Mosier, we reunited the dogs with a great deal of happy barking. It quickly became annoying because we haven’t heard if for over a week. Once they sensed our displeasure from our repetitive request to stop, they stopped. I suspect, however, they stopped simply because they wanted to do. We had no influence on their decision.

Before stopping at Wild Horse Casino we made a stop in La Grande to get gas and visit our Niece-Niece Maryssa who is attending Eastern Oregon University which, happily, is in La Grande. We had a nice visit sitting in our trailer, near the tennis courts on Sixth Street. It would have been nice if we could have enjoyed lunch together but we had the Big Black Dog (Ziva) and it was too hot to leave her alone in either the trailer or the pickup. As a lunch alternative, and a farewell gesture, we gave her all the frozen food remaining from our trip. I believe that caused a little remorse for all those times she ignored us when she was 6-12 years old. That’s an incentive to bring her food every time we see her. We’re making plans now. Something about strawberries I think.

Pendleton to home was uneventful except for an extremely windy 20 miles or so before exiting the Columbia River Gorge in Troutdale. It’s always windy there. I didn’t worry about it because Diane was driving. If the trailer had tipped over, it wouldn’t have been my fault. Wouldn’t have been her fault, either, but, you know, she was driving.

We got home on Monday, as planned. Then yesterday Diane got up early so she could make it to PDX by 0900 to get Ashlee and her fiancé Mike who flew in from Wisconsin. I couldn’t do it because I had to visit my dentist, Dr. Grim and get my teeth cleaned by Cheryl at 0900. Ashlee is half of a set of twins belonging to Lars & Barbara; Lars belongs to Butch & Margo, our long-time friends who live in Wisconsin. Mike and Ashlee’s flight arrived early so we all got home about the same time. The reason for the visit was for Ashlee to find living accommodations while she attends Pacific University to get her PhD in physical therapy. Mike is a Manufacturing Engineer seeking employment in the greater Portland area.

Today I went golfing with the Peal brothers. Diane insisted. It was a good day for all of us because none of us died out there on the course. I informed Diane of the agreement we golfers have in case one of us bites the big one while out there having all that fun. No matter which hole it happens on, we will finish the round. The two remaining golfers will play best ball for the deceased member who will be strapped into one of the carts we use. I initially thought we would have to drag the non-playing member from hole to hole, but Doug suggested just putting them in one of the open seats. Bungee cords are now part of our golfing equipment to ensure we have enough to hold a body on the cart. Then, once the round is complete, we will call 911 to report the loss then go hold a memorial lunch at Burgerville. If one of the married guys check out, the losing wife will be notified so she can attend the lunch. It’s the right thing to do.

We all made it through our standard nine holes so it was a successful day. I couldn’t attend the lunch that normally follows our golf game because I had to be home in time to take Ozzie to his hair dresser at 1300. I also had to get some drain cleaner for the kitchen sink. It’s been running a bit slow and finally jammed shut this morning. I figured we’d need to wash dishes some time this evening so it was necessary to visit ACE. That’s my first trip to ACE in a couple of weeks which is a modern-day record for me.

The cleaner worked and the sink now drains just fine. I’m sure you are all happy to know that. I can smell the chemical at the top of the basement stairs so the Pro drain cleaner I used may have eaten a hole in one of the drain pipes. I looked around down there but couldn’t find any evidence of a leak but I don’t go down there very often so I don’t view it as a problem. Diane’s washing machine, dryer, and ironing board are down there, however, so will let me know if she discovers something amiss. She has to go to the basement because it’s her job. I’d help but she won’t let me. Apparently that chenille sweater I dried in the dryer 8 years ago, and subsequently extracted most of from the vent filter, ensured I wouldn’t have to do laundry for a long time.

Since I’m not making a lot of sense, and because my right foot hurts, I think I’ll just terminate this. My foot hurts because I have a bout of gout in the large toe. We don’t know why. No doubt it’s something I ate but, since I’ve eaten a lot of “stuff” lately it would be are to pick out one thing that may have caused it. So, I will just continue to limp and eat whatever Diane gives me.

It’s 2000 now, and we haven’t seen Ashlee or Mike all day. We were considering that it might be time to start worrying when Ashlee texted Diane to let her know they were on their way back to St. Helens. That’s a good thing.

Now I’m eating popcorn for supper so I really gotta quit.

Wallow Lake, Nampa, Oil Trains

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As I write this portion, I’m sitting in a 26-31 foot travel trailer in Wallowa Lake State Park with my First Wife, Diane. The 26-31 foot reference is because Oregon DMV and the seller were at odds as to how long the trailer really is. Of course we went with DMVs 31 foot guess because that allows us to pay more for license plates. But, I tricked them because I invoked my right of licensing one vehicle using my VA entitlements and chose to transfer them from Diane’s pickup to the trailer. Saved me $200.

For those of you who aren’t acquainted with Oregon, Wallowa Lake is just south of Joseph, Oregon in the NE corner of the state, and the Wallowa Lake State Park is at the extreme southern end of the lake. Unless you want to travel on some unchartered roads, there’s one way in, and one way out. On that road is Joseph, Oregon which is named for, and the burial place of, Chief Joseph of the Nez Pierce tribe. We stopped to ponder our shadows in the stream that runs through the town. That’s Ziva on the left, Diane, then me.IMG_3500

The lake is beautiful, surrounded by mountains known as the Little Alps by locals. From the distance, say I-84, the Little Alps are always visible and almost always topped with snow. Very pretty. They are also visible from the lake and I’m here to tell you that the nice warm days don’t turn into nice pleasant nights. I gets down to freezing this time of year. That’s true because the Ranger told me so, and I went out side at night to see for myself. It was cold. Made parts of me shrivel right up.IMG_3504

The trip to get here from our designated domicile took about 9 hours. In a car it would have only been around 6 hours but we were towing a trailer, and we had Ziva, the big black dog, with us. So, 3 hours were spent stopping for gas, stopping for the bathroom, and stopping to eat.

Ziva is a very good traveller who didn’t whine one time for us to stop, and never once asked “are we there yet?” Then, after we arrived, she was perfectly content to just lay on her new cushion in the trailer all night and didn’t wake anyone up at all. Because of that we figure that Ozzie is the culprit who instigates the 5 am rise time. The big girls are OK, but he wants out so everyone has to get up. Here in the wilderness, Ziva finds the dog exercise area lots of fun. No leash to ruin whatever mood may strike her.IMG_3489

She also thinks hanging out in the trailer is pretty OK.IMG_3508

Here at the lake, Diane’s been treating me with some very fine meals. No doubt I’m going to get fatter. Currently, I don’t care. It’s all very tasty. All meals have been totally consumed, then today we had hot dogs and chili. The chili was all consumed, but there was a minor accident when I discovered some mustard had spilled on my Dickies. Fortunately, I was able to scrape and scrub it off before our trip to Joseph this afternoon. I was happy I wasn’t wearing Levis because Dickies is far more fun to say.

… here’s a pause …

It’s been a few days since I started this so please forgive me if specifics get a little jumbled and out-of-order. Then, again, it’s kind of normal that way, isn’t it?

Since I messed up my Dickies, things have happened. If I’m lucky I might remember some of them.

From Wallowa Lake we motored to Nampa, Idaho where we wound up parked in the driveway of a long-time friend of Gracie H. It’s my understanding that they’ve known each other for more years than most people have been alive. I’m sure that’s true because our hosts were pretty specific about that. Now, I’m saying Gracie is old, but it doesn’t matter, anyway, because she’s at least older than me. Considering my limited seniority, that leaves a lot of wiggle room for corrections.

We’ve been here in Nampa for two days and think our hosts are trying to tell us it’s time to move along down the road. Instead of sitting on their back patio, our chairs were moved to the front, next to the trailer. Looks like a pretty specific suggestion to me.IMG_0425

I took three naps on Friday (yesterday), and had a great dinner at Honkers to celebrate Bob’s birthday.  No one knows how old he is so I’m just going to guess he’s 40-something. He just has the look. I ate steak, Diane and Daniel had French Dip, and everyone else had Steak Fingers. Sadly, Gracie was unable to make it so we just sat around and talked about her.

After dinner we returned to the trailer and began the process of shutting down for the evening. It’s getting really hard to visually determine bedtime because it doesn’t get dark until 10:30 pm here.

Around noon on Friday an oil train, the kind that explodes and kills people, derailed in Mosier, Oregon which sits next to I-84, the desired way to get home. Reports are that the freeway will be closed for at least the next 3 days while officials can deal with the fire that ensued after the derailment. Fortunately, no one was injured. One person, it may have been Bob, speculated that some oil official probably caused the accident so they could raise the price of gas. Wouldn’t surprise me.

Today, Saturday, Diane discovered that I-84 has been opened to traffic both ways, “with restrictions.” Perhaps by tomorrow, our required departure date from this driveway, those restrictions will have been lifted. We’ll see. Our hosts are going to church in the morning and we have been instructed to be gone before they return.

Perhaps next time we come to Nampa we’ll just stay with Gracie.

News at a Glance

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I’ve been reading the news pretty much every day for a while now and I’m pretty amazed at some of the stories I see. Most interesting lately was the one about a 28-year-old conductor who fell to her death from the Royal Gorge Railroad in  Colorado. Two things about this story interested me.

One was, well, she fell off the train. I’ve never heard of a conductor falling off a train. Ever. I’m sure it has happened, but apparently wasn’t noteworthy for the new I read. It’s sad that this young lady lost her life in an incident like this and I’m left unfulfilled because I don’t know how it happened. There’s got to be a reason, but none was given. So, left to my own devices, I can only conclude that she was chasing a bandit from car to car and had him cornered in the dining area when from no where a monkey jumped from under a table and became entangled in her long hair. In its effort to get free, the monkey managed to wrap the hair around her face, blinding her and causing her much concern. As she turned and twisted, trying to help the monkey get free, she stumbled onto the platform between cars and tumbled from the train onto the rocky shores of the Arkansas River. That’s what the new said, she “tumbled” from the train. The NTSB, as a consequence of this event, have made it mandatory for all conductors, henceforth, to be bald to eliminate the possibility of this ever happening again. Some wonder if it might have been a better decision is they just made it illegal to bring a monkey aboard a train. Any train. But, no, all conductors must now be bald either by choice, or by nature. This make believe summary is in no way meant to diminish the sad loss of this young lady.

The second point of interest is that the Royal Gorge in Colorado was carved out by the Arkansas River. Huh. Turns out there’s two of them. Who knew? I wonder if anyone in Arkansas knows about this. If they do, do you think they’re proud that another state is using their name for a river in Colorado, or upset because of it. We’ll only know if someone speaks up.

Then there’s that ‘thing’ going on with North and South Carolina. The states decided to use GPS technology to check their common border and discovered that 19 families have been living in the wrong states. The lines drawn 200 years ago were deemed to be hundreds of feet off from where they were supposed to be. As a result of this change, 16 SC families were moved to NC, and 3 NC families were moved to SC. All that with no one actually moving at all. Now lots of work must start to figure out which schools all those kids will go to, what their new phone numbers will be, new zip codes, street addresses, tax liability, etc. What a mess. Perhaps they should have just left it all alone. But, hey, North Carolina saw a net gain of 13 new families that they can tax at will.

Did you see where Gary Johnson is the Libertarian nomination for president? Did anyone hear that on the national news? So, we have a third choice for president and, perhaps, a better choice. Who knows? Will it be Bernie, Hillary, Gary, or Donald? Should be interesting once it’s all decided.

And, finally, there’s a UFO floating around over Ohio with such brazen indifference that more than one person was able to video it. What do you think of that?

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.

Does your vote count? – Shipmate Cedric – EOU Softball

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It’s Tuesday, May 17th. That means its primary day and if you don’t get your ballots in before midnight, or thereabouts, your vote won’t count. Actually, it probably won’t count anyway since most of the other states have already made the decision for us. That’s emphasized by Hillary not even bothering to visit Oregon, something she did for most of the other states during their primary vote which means she’s just going to concede us to Bernie because I suspect she figures she just doesn’t need our support. Either that, or she doesn’t feel that she’s going to get our support, so why bother. Just an opinion. I could be totally wrong about that as I have been about far less import events in the past. No doubt this up and down trend will continue till I suck my last breath.

To aid in this voting effort, Diane is spending all day today, and won’t be home until the wee hours of the morning, counting ballots, helping to ensure everything is on the up and up. She does this every year and it wears her out, totally, every time. But, hey, they pay her $9 and hour for all that work so why not? Might get enough for a full tank of gas. We’ll see.

Me? I spent the day in self-imposed isolation, kind of, by mowing our entire yard. It looks right nice. Thankfully it dried out quickly from the last rain. I was unnecessarily concerned. After that I had time to take a shower then pick up Cedric for his meeting with the Navy recruiter. He does this, along with other Delayed Entry Program enlistees, on a regular basis while waiting for his trip to boot camp. Cedric will be going in mid July. I don’t know about the others.

Considering what happened last week (that trip to the emergency room?) you’d wonder why I would be left all alone with instructions to not use any dangerous tools (scissors are now on the list), but I was allowed to drive Cedric to Hillsboro. Kind of inverted logic, I think? But, it worked out OK and I’m home safe, as is Cedric. I guess the thought was I’d be safer in the truck going 55 than I would be going up or down stairs at home, in case I had another “near” Syncope event. A purely Syncope event is when you actually faint. I didn’t do that, but it was close. I think things like that happen so that you are unconscious when you hit the ground. I’d think that would hurt a lot less than being awake for the entire event. I’ve not had a recurrence but I’m still scheduled to see my cardiologist on June 14th. I’ll let you know how that goes whether or not you’re interested.

Eastern Oregon University (EOU) softball made it to post-season play this year for the first time since 2000. I know that’s true because I looked it up. I looked it up because I figured someone might ask if that’s true. Well, it is. As far as I can tell. My interest in EOU softball is because Diane and I have matching EOU cushions, and I have both an EOU shirt and hat. We have those because we cashed in on a prime opportunity to get stupendous bargains at the EOU book store as they closed out their stock last year. We were there to watch our Niece-niece Maryssa play for the EOU team. She’s a sophomore there now. On May 8th she knocked in the winning run that earned her team their first conference title in school history. Impressive.

 I guess I’ll wrap this up and watch a couple of movies while I wait for Diane to get home. She’ll be upset that I stayed up waiting for her, but that’s OK. I just need to know she’s home safe. I could go to bed, I suppose, because the dogs will alert me to her arrival, but I’d rather see if I can stay awake. It’s only fair.

Later …

Baylee’s 7, NAS Lemoore, & Other Stuff

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Today our daughter, Jennifer, her daughter, Lydia, and Jeff’s daughter, Baylee, went shopping with my Mother-in-law’s daughter, Diane. That’s 4 generations of girls heading to the big city with credit cards. The occasion is Baylee’s yearly trip with the girls to celebrate her birthday which was last Saturday, while we were gone. It’s a “thing” Diane does with the girls and they seem to love it. Four generations of girls shopping, having a nice lunch, and just hanging out. You know. Sounds fun. I stayed home and mowed the lawn.

If I’m allowed to know what they did, after the fact, I’ll share.

Let’s see … NAS Lemoore … I believe that’s where I left off yesterday.

The drive south from Dunsmuir was uneventful and I really don’t have a lot to share. Diane drove the first two hours, I drove the next three, then she finished off with almost two more. Did you get that part where I drove three hours? Straight? All by myself? This is a new aspect to our traveling routine where I normally sit in the Navigator’s chair, and Diane drives. With a really good GPS system, being the Navigator means I must sit quietly when turns are coming up so Diane can hear the instruction provided by the GPS lady. We haven’t named her yet. That gives me plenty of time to read, which I do, and just look at stuff zooming by. Eventually the truck stops and I look up to see that we’ve arrived someplace. I admit that I actually know the destination because I’m the one who programs it. I have this handy app on my phone that allows me to send destinations to the vehicle’s navigation system.

On a side note, Diane’s truck gets pretty good gas mileage. On one 50 mile stretch it got almost 32 mpg. The overall average for the trip was almost 21 mpg. The old pickup gets about 9 mpg, all the time, so we are pleased.

The high temperature today was 86 degrees. Right now it’s only 85 so it must be cooling off for the evening. As a native Oregonian I have to say that 86 degrees is too hot. It would be OK if it rained and cooled things off a bit now and then but it doesn’t. It’s either hot like that, or wet. In between those two is horrendous humidity. Well, not horrendous really, but bad enough that I briefly thought it was.

Since I was all alone all day I had to make my own lunch so I heated up some green beans and what I’m pretty sure was some left over meat loaf. It was pretty good.

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I’ve whittled away the day by mowing the back yard, our neighbor’s back yard, and by cleaning up the fan I’m going to install in the trailer. The girls are home safely so I can put away my worries and watch the Blazers play Golden State.

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Dunsmuir & Non-USA Visitors

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Wow! It’s been eight days since I last made an attempt to communicate with you. You’d think my failure to do so would be because I have nothing interesting, or reasonable to share, but such is not the case. I’m gratified to know that during my absence many of you have visited the site pretty much every day and I was surprised to see that Brazil tops the list for non USA visits. Yes, there’s some little automatic counter on the web site that keeps track of visitors. Not who they are, but where they are from. It blows my mind that anyone reads the stuff I share, and it’s more mind-blowing (to me) that some people actually return to visit. The fact that folks from other countries drop by, more than once, is beyond belief.

So, thanks to folks in the following countries who spent a bit of their valuable time to drop by more than once: Brazil, Italy, India, Canada, United Kingdom, Australia, Colombia, Mexico, Indonesia, Turkey, Chile, Belgium, Germany, France, and Argentina.

Next time say “Hi”.

Now, what’s happened in the last 8 days? I believe I left you hanging with an offhand comment about “on our drive south”. One would think we were on a trip, or something. Well, that is truly the case. We drove to Southern California, Carlsbad, to be specific, because we recently heard that the San Andreas Fault is about to create havoc and break that part of California off into the Pacific Ocean. That’s not true, of course. We just go there once in a while so Diane can get her SoCal “fix”. It’s one of her favorite places in the world.

Our first night was spent in Dunsmuir, California which isn’t too far over the Oregon/California border. Just a little bit past the spot where the California Fruit Inspectors make all south bound travelers stop and lie about the fruit they aren’t supposed to have. We actually didn’t have to lie this time because we really didn’t have any in the truck. I don’t think.

Dunsmuir is a small town when viewed from the comfort of your vehicle as you fly by on the freeway. We’ve done that dozens of times of the years. Because of this Diane thought it might be interesting to see what lies beyond the visible layer we’re used to seeing. She booked a room at the Cedar Lodge Motel which, oddly enough, is part of that first, visible layer.

We arrived in the are in plenty of time to look around, so we did. It wasn’t our intention to do so immediately upon arrival, but a wrong 50/50 choice about which way to turn to get to the motel settled that for us. We went right at the first Dunsmuir exit, instead of left, and wound up driving down the left side of the freeway to the next exit, crossed the freeway, and drove back up the other side to our motel. Had we turned right instead, the motel is about two blocks down.

Once we got checked in, as the only occupants of the motel, we went down Dunsmuir Avenue in search of Yaks on the 5, the recommended place to eat. It’s a fancy hamburger joint that’s spendier that most, and better than rest, we were told. We can attest to that being an absolute truth, and worth every penny. The food is absolutely magnificent and we echo the recommendation.

On a sides note, I must admit that I once ate a yak burger and found it to be pretty good. It was in Washington state, not far from home. That doesn’t have anything to do with Yak’s on the 5, and they don’t serve yak meat. I don’t think. Perhaps they should.

We retired early so we could hit the road early the next morning. Next stop was NAS Lemoore, which is a little south of Fresno, CA. They have a very nice Navy Lodge that we’ve used previously that rivals any Hilton we’ve ever stayed in.

I’ll discuss the Dunsmuir to Lemoore leg of the trip tomorrow. If I remember. Perhaps my First Wife will remind me.

In addition to my foreign visitors, thanks, also, to all of you USA folks who account for thousands of visits to this site. I know you are probably related, or personal friends, and only visit to see what kind of stupid predicaments I’ve been in, or to find out which body part I’ve injured. I must admit that I, too, find that last part entertaining, a couple of days after the fact.

Who Are Those Old People?

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A couple of days ago, on our way south, Diane needed something that could only be obtained at a grocery store. So we pulled off the freeway and found one.

As we were walking up to the store Diane said, “Look at those old people walking toward us.”

I looked around to see who she was talking about but didn’t see anyone. Then she pointed out our reflections in the windows of the store. Once she brought it to my attention I immediately recognized the good-looking young lady but it took a beat or two to realize the old guy was me. That’s understandable, I think, because I’ve never really paid much attention to me walking toward me in a reflection.

I will pay more attention in the future.

Dunsmuir to Naval Air Station Lemoore

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The title is our current location, the one we attained on the long drive from Dunsmuir. Driving tasks were shared, which is new for our trips. We’ve established a new pattern where Diane starts us off, I drive the middle, and she ends it. Works just great. I drove for 2 hours and 4 minutes. She drove the other 5. Doesn’t seem fair, I know, but that’s way better than her driving all 7 of them, which she’s been known to do. It’s nice to know that she trusts me now.

While in Dunsmuir we had time to wander around a bit and learned that there’s way more to the place than the little bit one sees while flying by on the freeway. It’s an old town which we confirmed by visiting the local cemetery. We do that once in a while because we find it very interesting. I even took photos, like normal. The three headstones shown captured my interest the most. The first one because it’s a military stone commemorating a gentleman who was in the Indian Wars. Never seen one of those before. The older two were important to me because they were obviously hand-made and didn’t have dates. Just the names Pa and Ma Rafferty.

Then this church jumped up in front of us and demanded a photo of its own. Really nice stone work. Beautiful.

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One of the most anticipated portions of this trip was when we went by Shasta Lake. The last few times we’ve been this way, the lake has been nearly empty. We were happy to see that it was full, once again.

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I tried taking a photo when we crossed the bridge, but that didn’t work out very well. So, Diane drove down to the moorage on the other side, something we’ve never done before. It was good to see the recovery up close and personal.

Somewhere along the line, noonish I think, we stopped to eat brunch. I found a place using my iPad that looked promising and that’s where we went. It was a country-style place where everything is home-made on site. Nice. I think they shipped the eggs in from someplace because we couldn’t hear any chicken noises. Same for the bacon … no pig noises. There was, however, a cow out back. I think.

Anyway, we both had omelets and fried potatoes with non-noutrishonal white bread toast. It’s our favorite. While eating, Diane saw a guy digging around in the garbage for something to eat. Sitting there with a nice meal in front of us required that we take action. I went out and introduced myself and saw that he was articulate and didn’t appear to be incapacitated. I asked if I could buy him a meal and he said that would be great. I escorted him inside and turned him over to the hostess, then gave him $20 so he could get whatever he wanted. He chose to sit by himself and ordered a huge order of biscuits and gravy. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to bolt and spend the money on something less healthy, I left him alone. He said his name is John and he’s from Longview, Washington.

Figure the odds of that. We’re from St. Helens, Oregon, 800+ miles from home and John is from Longview which is only about 15 miles away from our home. Diane and I call these chance meetings “God Moments” because we feel we are led to moments in time where we have a chance to make a good decision. It’s gratifying to make the right one.

Getting John fed allowed me to return to Diane and enjoy my Denver omelet.

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And Diane got a good cup of coffee …

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Now we’re enjoying our stop at NAS Lemoore. When we arrived the fighter jets were landing and taking off, making lots of noise. That was going on when Diane called her Mom to relate our day. She had to stop a few times because she couldn’t hear and I asked if I should call the front desk and complain about the noise. She didn’t think it would be a good idea, considering where we were and all.

I could only agree. Then we ate soup and called it a night.