Category Archives: Opinions

Jail Time !

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Diane was released from jail this morning at 0800. I was very thankful because she’s been locked up at the court house all week and the house is getting pretty dirty. I’ve managed to feed myself and it’s not as bad as it could have been because Diane pulled my travelling bib out of the car before she left. The laundry’s piling up, too.

But, shes home, and I’m thankful for that. I actually would have vacuumed but the rule about “using things that plugs in” was invoked prior to her departure, so that was ruled out as a viable activity in her absence. So, I had to make things up.

Since there was a 20% chance of rain yesterday afternoon, I bought some new tarps at ACE so I could adequately cover the motor homes parked out front. I got to see Jack, too, because he was working at the St. Helens store yesterday. It’s always good to see Jack. I was his designated driver after he got off work at 1700 because Wynette had the truck and she was in jail with Diane. Go figure. That was OK because we got to visit for a while and I got some free plants from ACE for Diane. They have a rack out front with a bunch of them on it that they are trying to give away.

This morning, before she was released, Diane called from jail telling me that I would need to get Jack to work by 0800 because she and Wynette were still incarcerated with no release date/time in sight. Since the call came at O-dark-thirty, I had plenty of time to get myself together before making that gruelling, eight mile trip to Scappoose, and back. Getting there isn’t a tough as getting back. That’s because Jack & Wynette live on a road to the west of Highway 30. That means it’s a right turn when heading south. To get home one must make a left turn onto Highway 30, crossing the path of all those insane people who drive from St. Helens to Portland, and from Scappoose to St. Helensa everyday for work. It’s a solid line of vehicles – I was going to say ‘cars’, but most of them are pickup trucks – with very few openings. Since I used to be part of that traffic pattern, heading to Portland, I know that most of them would do pretty much anything to avoid an accident that would cause them to be later for work. This bit of knowledge bolsters me after I’ve waited for a large enough opening, without success, for more than 10 minutes, and causes me to just close my eyes and jump out there. Most of the time I don’t even hear squeeling tires, or horns, because people expect this and, once they are past me, they are more concerned with getting into the left hand lane so they can spend the next 4 miles getting past the two people in front of them who won’t get out of the left lane and, for some dumb reason, are driving the actual speed limit. The nerve…

I got him to work right on time and he gave me another plant from the free rack. Since I was out and about, I went back to Safeway and got some coffee creamer, which I cannot survive without, and four apple fritters. When I got home at 0815 Diane was already there, but she didn’t want a fritter. She wanted bed because while in jail she wasn’t allowed to sleep for approximately 23 hours. The reason she wasn’t allowed to sleep is because here in Columbia County, those in jail during an election are required to count ballots. They do a good job, too, because if they don’t, they lose bathroom priveledges and will be forced to return to count for the next election.

Now she’s home, I’m home, the dogs are fed, the cat is out hunting birds, and I must do really quiet things until she wakes up. That’s why I’m doing this … my keyboard hardly makes any noise at all. The only danger is if I have to lean over to get a pen, or my coffee cup, I may fart. No, there’s no ‘may’ about it, I will fart, and the decibel level is low enough to carry through many doors eliciting the ever joyful, “I heard that”, from the east wing.

We don’t really have an East Wing. We don’t have any wings. We just have normal house rooms. I just like to say we have wings. Our ‘lower 40’ is the back yard, too.

I feel a bit of rowdiness descending on me so I better stop and take a nap so I can remain quiet like a fuzzy little mouse.

Beyond the Storm

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It’s been about five days since the last time I spent time here so you’ll have to forgive me for any errors, and untruths you may notice. There will probably be other stuff, too, but I have no idea what they may be. Only you can tell me, if you want to. And thank you to the 2 people who faithfully check this blog every single day. Bless you.

During that brief time the East Coast was inundated with extreme weather that buried some towns in sand, and swept others away. It was quick. It didn’t seem appropriate, during all this, for me to spout the nonsense that I do. So, I really do have some sense of decency that leaks to the surface once in a while. Probably not as often or as long or as I should.

The good news is that Ruth didn’t lose power throughout the storm. That was quite an astounding thing for a small town in Connecticut. Last I heard her home became a sanctuary for the family in the area that lost their power. I suspect that, had they all lost power, the sanctuary would still be at Ruth’s. That’s just the way it is over there.

Over here, on the left coast, things were incredibly mild as we watched the unfolding drama on the right coast. We feel blessed, and we feel sad at the same time. Very conflicted emotions. It will, however, pass. It always does. Everything gets better, then it gets worse again. It’s all about cycles. We cope.

Thankfully, the up cycles always seem to overshadow the down cycles which is why we are able to continue with our lives. That’s an opinion. Some people don’t cope as well as others because they dwell on the down side. I try not to do that. I try to stay on the plus side of the horizontal axis. Left or right of vertical doesn’t matter as long as it’s positive.

Tomorrow the CenturyLink guy is going to show up and reconnect our old phone number to the house. Yes, we’re returning to a land line. The deciding factor was being able to get the old phone number we had from 1989 thru 2007. Amazing it was available, and that they were willing to give it back, don’t you think? So, after tomorrow, you can enter that number into your address books. I know, I haven’t told you what that number is. Most of you probably don’t really care. And that’s OK. I will communicate the number to those of  you who care in another manner.

This afternoon some Winnebago friends, from the Classic Winnebago Club, to which we belong, to see our new acquisition, the 1973 Indian Winnebago D22. This is going to be a project, but a surprisingly short one, because it’s in very good condition. Terry has already offered to paint it, which it needs because the paint on the top portion of the aluminum siding has turned to powder. I suppose I could just polish the aluminum, but that would make it too shiney. Plus, we’re going to change the blue trim to the classic lime green. Like this …

Perhaps sometime next year it may show up on your door step seeking a power outlet.

Now I’m going to watch a movie … “In Time” … then bed.

Sore Back, Bad Golf, and Blue Lips

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Today a variety of things went on that ultimately resulted in me having a sore back, a high golf score, and blue lips. Let me try to explain …

First, the dogs allowed us to sleep in until after 7 am. I think that’s because they’re used to getting me up when it’s daylight, and it’s getting dark early, and staying dark later in the morning, so their clocks are skewed. I’m not going to tell them about it. As soon as we Fall Back for  daylight saving time, which is really a dumb thing to do, in my opinion, it will mess them up even more. For now, however, I’m going to enjoy the extra sleep time.

Once Diane got up, and I was allowed to make noise, I volunteered to vacuum the main floor of the house. Diane thought that would be a really good idea, and a lot of help, because that would allow her to concentrate her efforts on putting everything together for Jennifer’s Birthday Dinner (JBD), planned for 6pm today. Before firing up the vacuum, however, I made Jennifer a double batch of fantasy fudge without walnuts. Her favorite.

I did the vacuuming and was glad I did it because it gave me the sore back. I would rather have it than for Diane to have it because she has enough back problems as it is. My back wasn’t really terrible … it just had a sore spot that hurt a lot when I moved the wrong way.

After vacuuming, lunch was almost ready. Diane fried the bacon so all I had to do was dredge up my expert culinary talents to create a cheese omelet to accompany the strips of succulent pig fat. I used six eggs to do this so it was a bigun.

While creating this masterpiece, Doug called, inviting me to join him and JP at 1pm for a round of golf. I initially declined thinking I wouldn’t be done with lunch in time, but turns out I can eat pretty fast. Besides, Diane thought it would be a good idea if I went. Might not get to golf again until spring. So I went.

It was chilly to start, but halfway through the sun popped out and it was incredibly beautiful with the sun shining on all those colorful trees. Playing bad golf on a day like this was a good thing. I beat JP by one stroke. I never beat JP even though he’s had both knees replaced and can still hardly get around, and he’s in such terrible pain all the time that I don’t see how he can walk at all. Still, he smacks the ball around nicely. So, it was a treat for me to beat him this one time. I never beat Doug. he makes sure by lying to me when I ask how many strokes he takes. I generally add one to whatever he tells me, but he still beats me. Guess since I’m the scorekeeper I could fudge my score a little, but I have a bit of integrity left. He actually doesn’t lie to me at all. I made that up.

Here’s a panorama picture of the ninth hole, from Hazen Road on the left, to the parking lot on the right.

I got home from golf just in time to shower then go get Diane’s Mom, Jean. The house smelled incredible from all the cooking she did during my absence.

All the kids showed up not long after I got Jean in the house and the noise level picked up a great deal, just like someone turned on a couple of stereos tuned to different stations. It was a joyful noise, however, and it was good.

There were nine of us gathered around the table this evening and we had a terrific dinner of baked ham, scalloped potatoes, sweet potatoes, corn asparagus, dressing, and dinner rolls. This was Jennie’s dinner request. It’s always been one of her favorites.

The dessert was a huge cake that Diane found on the Costco Ding n Dent Cake Cart. It was a bargain and still looked pretty good. And, it tasted really good. Unfortunately for me, Lydia made an addition to the cake with some really blue coloring. I, of course, got the piece with the largest amount of this coloring and wound up with blue lips which Jennifer found very amusing. So, she took a picture. I didn’t know I had blue lips at the time. Once I saw the picture, I thought it was really festive. This might be my new look from now on.

Nice, huh?

After all that food, and the dessert, we all sat down to watch The Middle, which we all enjoy. It’s fun to watch other dysfunctional families interact so we’ll know when we’re all straying off course.

By then it was time to get the kids home because they have school tomorrow. Earlier Lydia retired to the Man Room because she didn’t feel well, so I offered to give her a piggyback ride to the car. Surprisingly, she agreed, and stood on the couch so I could more easily accept her weight. When she climbed aboard, she inadvertently got her hair over the top of my head so I had a real closeup look at how she sees the world.

We worked as a team to open doors, and get to the car where I deposited her in her assigned seat and away they went. I don’t think I’ll be able to these kids many more piggy back rides so this was special.

That’s pretty much the today in a nutshell.

Beauticians vs. Barbers

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I fear I’ve treaded heavily upon some soft spots of decorum by delving into the world of religion and politics. View this as a hasty retreat from that line of thought and consider me neutral. I’m now Switzerland, in position only, of course. I don’t have spare banks into which you can dump your hard earned cash, but I do have a small safe that will hold a modest amount should any of you care to contribute.

That, by the way, isn’t one of those Nigerian scams where someone with bad English wishes to help you claim the millions of dollars his client, your relative, left in his care. He just needs you to confirm your identity, send him a few grand, and he’ll ensure the money is transferred. For a modest fee, of course.

No, that’s not me. This isn’t even a request. It’s simply a suggestion that if you have a bunch of cash laying around and don’t know what to do with it I’ll help you store it until you make up your mind. For a modest fee, of course. I don’t need any kind of personal information from you, either. You can just leave it anonymously in the Wal*Mart newspaper drop box on any Tuesday morning.

Today I must make an appointment with the Apple Doctor for the computer, upon which I’m creating this questionable bit of verbage, as it’s main storage unit has been deemed to have a known flaw and they wish to replace it, free of charge. All I have to do it get it to the doctor. First, however, I must make an appointment with them that does not overlap any currently scheduled appointments. Today, the critical one is Diane’s haircut this morning.

Diane and her Mom, Jean, go together for haircuts about every 5 weeks or so, the same as Ozzie. Actually, Ozzie is the driver here because when his fuzzy hair gets to looking pretty bad, the girls just gather him in and they all march off for their Poodle-Do’s.

Me? I really don’t care if I ever get another haircut but there always comes a point in time when Diane feels I’ve gone long enough without one and parks in front of my barber until I get out of the car. Then she goes shopping while waiting for me.

Most times, about 2 days after their haircuts, they find problems that cause them to question their choice of facilities, and/or, their beautician, and discuss their choices about where to go for the next one. This generally winds up with them making the rounds of all the salons in St. Helens over an 8 month period, winding up with their overall favorite, Tracie. My barber is a beautician, too, but he only charges me $10 for a haircut. Also, he’ll cut anyone’s hair so I’ve suggested, numerous times, that we could all go see him. The drawback for them, however, is that it’s a long process with my barber. He’s not in a hurry, he’s the only barber in the joint, and he has a ton of information to share. And, he doesn’t make appointments. Since his haircuts take about 40 minutes each, consider waiting a while if you are #3. I find it very interesting, however, listening to him share information on pretty much every subject known to mankind. It’s educational, unlike the rumors and gossip shared in normal beauty salons. I know that’s true because I’ve seen lots of TV shows where they do that. You don’t see many people getting their hair cut in barber shops on TV shows nowdays, unless one of them is getting shot.

I’ve decided that I’m not going to shave until next April. Diane will be upset, but my face will stay a bit warmer as the temperatures drop. I may, with increasing marital pressure, cave on this but my current intention is to stand fast and let it grow.

Gotta go and get my work clothes on now. Things to do. While I’m gone, perhaps you can help me solve a mystery that’s been bugging me lately. Well, not just lately, but for a long time now.

Why doesn’t pubic hair turn grey?

In The Beginning

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For a lack of anything better to share, I’m giving you a preview of my short story about the history of everything. It’s stupid and obviously make believe and it’s bound to upset more than a few folks. If you’re one of them, I’m sorry.

In The Beginning: the real story

Disclaimer:

“Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, ligula suspendisse nulla pretium, rhoncus tempor placerat fermentum, enim integer ad vestibulum volutpat. Nisl rhoncus turpis est, vel elit, congue wisi enim nunc ultricies sit, magna tincidunt.” -Author Unknown

I have it on good authority that the above statement is absolutely meaningless. I looked it up. It’s simply a place holder in a template and we’re supposed to replace it with something of value. I kinda like the way it looks, however, and it goes right along with what you are about to read, if you continue. The following pages are pure fabrication, snatched from my caffeine agitated brain. Please, do not believe any of it. Also, please don’t take offense at anything you read and remember that you have the option of stopping at any time you wish. I mean, being upset about something that’s already proclaimed to be false, is like getting upset with an NBA referee for making an obviously inaccurate call against your favorite team. It happened, and you can’t take it back. Move on and get over it. There will be a makeup call on the next possession.

Preface 

Since there’s so much turmoil between various religions about who’s the messiah, if there’s a messiah, if the messiah is coming back, if the true religion is Jewish, Christianity, Muslim, Islam, Buddhism, The Church of Elvis … or Whatever … I thought it’s about time I set everyone straight on what really happened, and what’s going on now, and what you can look forward to.

So, here goes … and remember, this is just pretend.

 Ich mein nogginshakin mitt smackinhappy noddinupndown

 Chapter 1: Kablooey!

There was a great light that lit up the universe and would have caused blindness had there been any people. But there weren’t any. It would have gone totally unnoticed had not someone made a note of the event so it could be shared at some time in the future. Since everything began with God, He must be the one who took notes. All the writings I’ve read report that when God spoke He referred to Himself as Us causing one to think there was more than one spirit involved, even in the beginning. Either that, or God is the father of multiple personalities.

Anyway …

The light was caused by an explosion of a very small amount of cosmic matter that, purportedly, God had in his pocket. To him it would be like lint is to us. He reached in to pull out change so he could get a copy of the Daily Heavenly Review, and saw the lint pinched between the two coins he’d extracted. After picking it out, he set us free by flicking it away from him, into the rarefied air of his domain.

Time is a subjective “thing” that changes with perspective. To us, God moves in super duper slow motion, so slow He doesn’t appear to move at all to us. For us it’s a frantic voyage. Consequently, what to some was the “Big Bang”, was to God  a bit of lint that, when propelled into the “void”, fell apart, scattering particles in all directions. Since that moment in time, “our Universe” has been nudged by unseen breezes, like dust motes, sometimes rising, but mostly falling, toward the floor of God’s living room. If we’re lucky, God’s environmental system will suck us into his air filter and blow us into another room then we can float from room to room in God’s mansion. Some folks think the air return on God’s A/C is a black hole, and the quick trip through the filtration system is a design that moves “things” to another time in space. That’s true, it does exactly that.

As the lint floated, God took notice, and things began to happen. There are six rather long, well documented naps,  interspersed with periods of alert activity on His part.

Life on earth evolved in many forms. Some of them are being talked about to this day. Like neanderthals, and things like that. Also, Mastodons, saber tooth tigers, a bunch of different kinds of dinosaurs, and bugs galore.

About a bazillion years later, the guessing began as to our origins and whether or not we humans are the result of creation, or if we’re related to salamanders, or if we’re a little bit of both.

Here’s what really happened …

OK – that’s enough for now. Perhaps that’s enough “forever” for the majority who stumble upon this. Perhaps I’ll finish this one day.

Dreams and Diane’s New Vacuum Cleaner

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Today started out nicely because I found a pair of work pants that has knees. Diane hides them so I’ll wear out the ones that don’t. This causes two irreversible problems … my knees always look dirty (but they really aren’t … honest) and whatever washcloth I use in the shower becomes permanently stained the color of whatever kind of dirt I was kneeling in. Red dirt is always the worst. As luck would have it, I should have used my kneeless pants because all I did was lay under the “new” motorhome and get rust in my eyes while loosening bolts on the rear gas tank brackets. I may explain this at a later date. To do this required that I lay on my back so I didn’t even get my pants dirty. They’re good for another couple of weeks, now.

Another plus today was Diane got up early and had coffee ready for me. She hadn’t, however, let the dogs out. Had she done that, I may have caught another hour or so of sleep.

The first thing Diane made me do was help make the bed after I’d ingested a couple cups of coffee. I don’t mind helping with chores because that’s something I normally do. In fact, I get in trouble all the time for taking over a task Diane is doing, that she wants to do, and she yells at me. Really loudly, too. Sometimes I’m afraid the neighbors will call the police for domestic abuse, or something. But they don’t so maybe it’s not as loud as I seem to think it is. As you may already know, my mind plays tricks on me like that.

This afternoon we received the new vacuum cleaner Diane ordered on eBay. Yes, it’s really new, too. Not like the old $10 Rainbow she’s been using for the past 3-4 years. No sir. This one is either brand spanking new, or it’s been cleaned really well and sprayed with something that smells like a new vacuum cleaner. It’s very quiet, compared to the old Rainbow. This afternoon, while lunch was cooking, we tried it out. That’s why we know it’s quiet. It’s also easy to use, so now I might not have to vacuum all the time. I will, however, volunteer if necessary.

It’s good the vacuum showed up because it’s been about 3 months since the Rainbow died. Things are getting a little dicey around here, but I didn’t notice. Diane told me that so I took a shower thinking that would solve the problem. Apparently that hasn’t been working well.

I took a picture of this butterfly in disguise that was rushing across Diane’s bedside rug before we vacuumed it. 

 

That is, of course an out and out lie. It wasn’t rushing at all. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t even moving. It just stood there looking at me, daring me to pick it up. Little did it know that I don’t pick up strange caterpillars in disguise. So, it was a pointless dare. When I was younger, maybe, but I’m not taking any chances this late in life with all those STDs flying around out there.

Oh yes. That’s not Diane’s bedside rug, either. It’s the one outside our back door that the dogs wipe their feet on before coming back into the house after running around in the soggy yard. I wish.

Now, let’s discuss something of great importance to me. I’ve been thinking about this for the last hour or so and it’s caused me to question even my reality. It’s about The Matrix, as in is it really our reality? I mean, are we all soaking in a tub of goo with tubes and wires stuffed into our arms and legs? I don’t know what caused this to leap into the viewable part of my brain, but it did. Perhaps it was another thought I had about how we all live in a time machine. Seriously. Close your eyes and think about that for a minute.

When you open them, write down all the places your mind just took you. If you don’t think it took you anywhere you must have distractions in your life. Try it in a quiet room. If that doesn’t work, you may need to go to Triple A and get some free maps to see what you’re missing.

When I close my eyes I can go anywhere I want. Mostly it’s places I’ve already been, doing things I’ve already done, but I get to pick the place when I’m awake. I don’t have a lot of control over where my mind takes me when I’m asleep but I do believe that when I’m dreaming, I’m really there. It’s so spooky that I’m always surprised when I don’t wet the bed.

OK … I didn’t mean to go there so things are going the wrong direction. I better quit.

Strictly Opinions

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Today I’m wondering why it is I’m compelled to write something on this blog every day. Part of it is the delusion that some who read this, expect me to do just that. I gotta tell you that bending to that ideal makes me feel like a pompous ass. I truly do not believe I have anything to say that would instill in anyone the the overpowering need to consult my blog entry.

It is my opinion that blogs are a way for people to share wisdom, their feelings, their skills, their experiences … all of the blogs I personally follow are very eloquent, full of very artistic word wizardry, and meaningful, touching views of every day life.

Nice stuff, all of it.

The only reason I can think of why anyone would read my blog on purpose – actually there are a couple of them.

One is that I use the right title that sucks unsuspecting readers to my site thinking they are going to be bedazzled with sage information about that title. Truth is, I normally make up the title first, then write gibberish about lots of other “stuff”. Not intentialy, though. I add the title first in order to give me a starting place. Typically, however,  where I start quickly morphs into something entirely different as I chase tangents in a schizophrenic dash through my head. I bounce from one thought to another in a manner that has no reason, but that doesn’t stop me. I’m not shy about revealing my shortcomings and that brings me to number Two.

I think people return to me because they want a smile. i know that’s true, in some cases, because that’s what I’ve been told. Well, one of them told me that. Also, I think they come back to find out what kind of trouble I’m in at the moment.

Complicating that is Diane’s objection to me using her as the enforcer in our long term relationship but, it’s a fact. How can I not report the truth? People need to know about this even though most of what I share has no basis in reality. It’s simply how my fingers perceive what my brain is trying to pass along. That’s a legitimate reason for spouting fiction. Most of the time I don’t pay any attention to what my fingers are doing. For example, as I type I’m listening to the weather report from Dave Salesky on Channel 2. He’s talking about snow and lots and lots of rain in Portland. It’s just a mild drizzle here.

The roofers returned today to address some complaints I had about the job. That brings to mind an old saying about how we never seem to have time to do things right the first time, but we always have time to come back and correct it. Why do you suppose that is? Seems to me it would be less expensive for a company to properly monitor their crews, in cases like ours, ensuring they follow the rules and simply do the job right. How hard is that? The problem is that everyone is too big of a hurry to move on to the next job, and the next, ad infinitum, piling up the dough so it can be paid to the cleanup crews that follow them around.

Gotta stop because I’m about to get on my band stand and spout something I may regret. No, that’s not true. I don’t really regret anything I spout. Nope. I’m perfectly comfortable with what my fingers tell everyone.

Cheers.

Golfing, the Ducks, and Rain …

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Summer is over in St. Helens, Oregon. I know that’s true because the weatherman said so and I believe pretty much everything he tells me. Actually, he told Diane, on the evening news, and she told me and I believe everything she tells me. Not believing her isn’t an option.

When the rain started our satellite dish took a brief hit, scrambling the pixels for a bit, but straightened up quickly so I could watch the end of the game where the Oregon Ducks dismantled the Arizona Sun Devils. The game started badly for the Ducks with a fumble which was recovered by the Sun Devils who scored on their first play from scrimmage.

On the ensuing kickoff, the Ducks scored then converted for an 8-7 lead. All of this took about 90 seconds off the play clock. For the remainder of the first half the Ducks punished the Sun Devils for that first fumble by scoring 43 unanswered points.

During the second half the Ducks backed off, playing pretty much everyone on the bench. Nick Aliotti wasn’t happy, I’m sure, because the Ducks remained at 43 but the Sun Devils 2nd string scored 14 more points. Final was 43-21. Ducks are awesome. Now the only unbeaten teams in the Pac-12 conference are the Ducks and the Beavers – both Oregon teams. How about that?

Now, about the rain … during the first 15 minutes the sky dropped about 3 inches of rain in the area. Not all in one place, but over a large area, and if it was squeezed together into a smaller area I’m sure it would be at least 3 inches. I’m really not sure how they measure rainfall. I think it has something to do with an empty tuna can.

Most of the day it was nice and clear. I even went golfing with the Peal Brothers this morning. I did my normal terrible, but it was fun because I hit some incredible drives. They were straight and everything. Just like they’re supposed to be. That’s about as good as it got because I apparently can’t hit anything that isn’t setting up on one of those little tee’s. I’m told it’s illegal to use those in the fairway.

After golfing badly, I came home to work on the Blue Bago, but Diane called and invited me to a Burgerville lunch with her Mother. I never turn down a Burgerville lunch. Today I had a Pepper Bacon Cheese Burger with lemon ade. That’s a change because I normally have a chocolate milkshake which isn’t good for my fake diabetes problem.

Now, don’t think that last statement means that I take diabetes lightly. It’s just that I’ve been told I’m borderline and until a specific determination has been made it’s not a real problem I can deal with. I have a hard time dealing with intangibles.

This afternoon, after lunch, I put on some old work clothes and went out to wash the top of the Blue Bago to see what it looks like. When I started it was pretty much black all over. After I scrubbed it with Dawn and water. Turns out one of the previous owners had painted the roof with pink snow roof. Without the dirt it looks mighty festive. Also, it looks great and is nicely sealed. I don’t think it’s leaked for a long time and don’t expect it to leak now. I guess we’re going to find out.

I washed the roof today because I knew it was going to rain tonight and I have work to do underneath the bago … like reconnect all of the gas lines and find out why the system doesn’t work. Being underneath, I won’t get rained on. See, I’m thinking ahead. I won’t get rained on, but my back will probably get wet from all the water running down the road. That’s OK as long as I figure it out.

Now I must rest.

My Blue Bago

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It’s not really just mine … it’s ours … mine and Diane’s. It’s a 1973 Winnebago D22 and this is what it looks like right now.

The blue Subaru behind it is the tow car but we can’t tow it yet because we don’t have a tow bar yet. So, it’s a chase car. I may have mentioned that before.

We bought this thing yesterday. It’s been sitting for a year behind a business in Hillsboro. I had high hopes of getting it home yesterday, but gas tank lashup I had didn’t work very well. Today Doug went with me to see what we could do with it. Everything worked just fine until the electric fuel pump froze up. We took it back to Baxter’s who refunded the purchase price because the one we bought yesterday was the only one he had. So, we went down the street a little further to Auto Zone and got another one, just like it.

To power it up Doug suggested we buy a cheap $1.99 extension cord instead of paying $6.00 for a comperable amount of wire. He cut both ends off, stripped the shielding and used both wires for the conduit. We found a hot wire peeking out of the dash that was only hot when the key was on so we were good to go after hooking up the pump to the carbuerator.

The engine started right away and ran exceedingly smooth. There are no discernable exhaust leaks. I drove it home without bolting down the engine cover in the cab so it was drafty, noisy and hot. For the fuel supply I placed a 5 gallon gas can just inside the door and just dropped the end of the fuel line in it after connecting it to the fuel pump.

Tomorrow, after golf, I’ll get a couple more pictures and post them so you can see what a traveling death trap I was driving this afternoon. I did have a fire extinguisher, but didn’t have to use it. The gas can went dry in Warren, about 4 miles from home. I really thought I could make it, but we had to pull over and make a gas run to St. Helens. Thankfully Doug was following me the entire way, keeping an eye on things for me. Without his help today that thing would still be sitting in Hillsboro. I asked him to marry me, because he’s such a good friend, but he reminded me that I’m already married. In response, I told him I was thinking of becoming a bisexual Mormon so I could have both a husband and a wife. He didn’t think it was a good idea, or that his wife would approve, so we avoided that issue the remainder of the day. It was a little awkward for a while after that.

Add to all the other things going on, I now have gout in the palm of my foot. Not really the palm, more towards the first knuckles of all my middle toes. This is going to help me with golf tomorrow because you’re supposed to put your weight on your heals when you swing the club. That will not be a problem.