The local deer found out it’s hunting season so they’ve taken up residence in our back yard. Our dogs, who bark at pretty much everything that acts like it’s going to move, went to the back yard and didn’t even know the deer were there.
This is the doe and her fawns that grew up two lots west of us. They usually visit, but don’t hang out, so this is proof that they know hunters are out and about.
Just when everyone thought things were going along just fine, Jerrie woke up.
Three days had passed and he had no memory of what had transpired so I’ve decided to help explain. He doesn’t know I’m doing this. If he did he’d have a conniption fit because he doesn’t like anyone using his precious electronical equipment. He puts passwords on everything thinking we, who spend hours and hours all alone in the house, with nothing else to do, can’t possibly figure that kind of stuff. C’mon! What are we going to do when we’re locked up in the house with nothing else to do? Sleep? Pee on the rugs? Chew on furniture? Sure, we’ve done all of that, but after a while it’s just no turn any more so we started fiddling with his computers and we discovered a whole new world.
So what’s been happening with Jerrie and Diane? We have absolutely no idea beyond what we witnessed. As the spokesanimal for the group, I’ll do my best to get things accurate and in chronological order.
There were some familiar people at the house on Friday evening that would account for the flurry of activity on Thursday. That’s when Jerrie went out to his car, the old Subaru, and extracted his fancy cutoff saw from the back-end of it. It was kind of freaky and reminded me of the time I watched one of my friends have puppies, only puppies don’t have sharp edges and pointy things. He pulled that thing into the garage, and I went and hid when he plugged it in. It doesn’t scare me … I want that understood up front. I just don’t like loud noises. Honest. Thankfully, he closed the door into the house so I didn’t have to listen to the incessant whine of the saw motor. I know that’s what it is because he’s used that thing before, and it drives me nuts.
Before he fired that thing, up, he left the house fora period of time around noonish. I later learned that he went to some storage facility to help liberate a truck load of newspapers which he, and his friends, delivered to the Lions Club newspaper collection container which is located at the St, Helens High School. I know, that’s a lot of detail coming from a dog that has a limited understanding of the language spoken by most of the people with which I’m familiar. A lot of what I figure out is strictly conjecture because lots of the speech I hear is a little like white noise so I think what I really do is read minds. Really! I do.
Shortly after he returned home, disturbing me from a perfectly wonderful nap, the master of the house arrived and made him eat lunch. I’ve almost given up on begging for food any more because he rarely gives me anything … little teeny bits of things I can barely taste they are so small. What a waste of time.
Anyway, they ate, something, didn’t give me any, then he went to the garage and ignited the noisy saw. He quit about 4 pm or so and they left to go watch Lydia play soccer. I’ve tried to tell them that I think it would be really fun to go watch Lydia play a soccer game, but the words just won’t come to me, and they can’t read minds like I do. I stayed home and took a nice long nap.
It appeared that what he was doing was take small pieces of wood that he called baseboards, cut them, then try to put them back together so they looked like they belonged where he put them along the floor. He didn’t nail any of them down so I suspect he’s not done fiddling with them. After doing a little investigative investigation, listening to him talk with his female associate, I learned that they were expecting company at some point on Friday. That turned out to be true, incidentally, but that’s coming up in a minute.
I slept the rest of the day so don’t know what happened the rest of the day until I was allowed to exit the house into the back yard and search for a new spot to relieve myself. It’s kind of humiliating, you know, o have to crap and pee in public. But, one can get used to pretty much anything. Especially if you’re a dog. Like me. After doing my ‘thing’, I comeback in the house, trying to avoid the annoying little black dog who spins in circles like a little maniac in anticipation of the bed time treats we always get. I just sit calmly on the floor, waiting to perform my stupid dog tricks for a little pittance of a treat. But, he seems to enjoy it, so I humor him.
On Friday, they both left the house, a couple of times. The first time they came back the master was a little sad, so he told her he just wasn’t going to spend $100 on a couple of used, stained chairs. He then told her that if she wanted chairs, get new ones. It was really funny because she grabbed her purse and keys and almost ran to the car telling him to hurry up. Apparently they went to Richardson’s, right here in town, who sells furniture made in Indiana (so I’m told), and bought two new chairs to fill the void created when the perfectly good couch they had was carted away, along with the dining room table, a couple of weeks ago. I know is was Richardson’s because later that day they delivered the chairs and I heard one of the delivery guys say that name. When they got here, I barked, like I’m supposed to, then I licked their hands because they seemed to be pretty nice.
The chairs look OK, if you like chairs. The master really likes them, a lot, and said the red color actually does look OK with the carpet in the living room. I won’t be sitting in them so I really didn’t care. I took a nap.
About 3 pm, as close as I can tell, two folks I’ve met before showed up at the door. I looked out the Man Room window and saw that they arrived in a funny looking van that they use to travel all over the United States. The master, and he, were very happy to see them. I believe they were Jerry and Nelda Somethingorother. I’m not big on last names. Sorry.
All of them either sat around the table while the master worked in the kitchen, making something for the pot luck that was happened later that afternoon. It’s my understanding that the pot luck was attended by members of a Classic Winnebago Club that included Les, Sophie, Cliff, Susie, Terry, Carolann, Jim, and Kim. I heard someone say they were all staying at the Elks Club off 6th Street, just a hop and a skip away. With Jerry and Nelda, master, and him, there were 12 people. I don’t know what happened because I was forced to go down to the creepy basement with the annoying little black dog. They think I’m OK with that, but I’m not. I spent the entire time crouched on the top step, just the other side of the door, listening to all the fun they were having. The food smelled really, really good. I didn’t even have water, and my food bowl was just about 5 tantalizing feet from where I was crouched.
Finally everyone left and I was released and allowed to go out front to tell everyone ‘bye’. Then we all went to bed.
Saturday morning I woke him up at 0700, I think, because I was hankering for a touch of canned food which I get as soon as I come back in the house from my morning trip to the yard. Then I took a nap. I barely got to sleep before I heard Jerry and Nelda again. Interesting. I guess they slept in the driveway, which I thought was a little odd until I learned that they actually slept in their van, in the driveway. Big difference.
They sat around drinking coffee, talking, laughing, like I wasn’t even there. Nothing fell on the floor right away, but I feigned interest for longer than necessary before going in to the Man Room to take a nap. Sleeping wasn’t in the cards for me, however, because of all the racket they all made. Then, wouldn’t you know it, all the people from the night before showed up again. All the food had been removed from the refrigerators and reheated as necessary, in anticipation of their arrival, but no one told me. Then I was sent to the basement again. It’s getting to be quite a routine, me going to the basement. The cat, however, gets to go outside and run all over the neighborhood, without supervision! Is that fair?! I think not!
There were gaps in activity the remainder of the day. J&N left, then the master and he left, and they didn’t come back for hours. Really! Hours! Thankfully, they left the patio door open so we could go out and bark at something once in a while, but that’s a long time to be left alone. When they returned they told us all about the fun they had down town on the St. Helens Haunted Tour. Sounded fun. They even went out for dinner after that, extending the night even more than necessary. Then they went to the Elk’s Club to sit and visit in Les and Sophie’s new 1989 Winnebago Superchief. Apparently it’s quite a rig. Really big and nice, we were told. Plenty of room for a dog, or two.
When they got home they went to bed after allowing me into the yard one last time.
Today had a normal beginning, then something changed because only the master left. Since it’s Sunday, I suspected they would both leave for church, but that didn’t happen. She left early and took Jennifer, one of my favorite people, shopping for her birthday. I guess Grandma Jean, another one of my favorite people, went too. That left him home alone with pretty strict instructions to leave the power tools alone. So, he went outside, grabbed a ladder, and used it all the way around the house to reach areas that needs to have paint scraped. I was proud of him because he didn’t go on the roof, and he didn’t get the tall ladder to reach the really high spots. He knows I can dial 911, and bark, but doing that just doesn’t interest me much. I could have gone outside with him, if I wanted to, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed in the house and took a nap.
In the afternoon, about 1:30, he left to go pick up another couple of my favorite people, Cedric and Jeran, and took them to the movie down town. I smelled popcorn on him when he got home. I love popcorn. Cedric was with him. Not long after they got home, the master arrived. Jennifer showed up a couple of hours later to get Cedric. Lydia, another one of my favorite people, was with Jennifer. She scratched my ear. I love that. Then they left and I took a nap.
Now it’s time for bed and I need to go outside and prepare myself for the series of tricks I make him do before he gives me my treat.
OK – we’re back!
Got home last night after 2300, and actually made it to bed before midnight. The dogs seemed happy to see us which is good because we weren’t sure what kind of reception we’d get. Sometimes they can be down right mean when they want to be. Not mean in a physical way, but more mental, like ignoring you, or looking out the side of their face at you without actually turning their head in your direction. It’s very disconcerting when they do that. Ozzie does it best. But not last night. He was a happy little dog.
Perhaps he was most happy because when we got to LA, Diane texted Jennifer and asked her to please turn the heat back on in the house. It was off the entire time we were gone and I think Oz got chilly. Panzee? No way. She has fur to spare so she just doesn’t get cold. Ever. She doesn’t even get very wet when it rains. I think she may have duck feathers scattered in amongst the fur somewhere.
Sleeping in this morning wasn’t an option because I Diane forced me to go with her to the VA to get my flu and shingles shots – one in each arm. It’s been 7 hours since I got the shots and now my little skinny arms really hurt. Fortunately, I had the flu shot in my left arm because it hurts the worse than the shingles shot. The reason is because the flu shot had to be in the muscle, but shingles is subdural. That simply means the flu shot needle has to be, like, 3 inches long in order to get past the layer of fat on my arm, but the shingles was only about half an inch long. There actually isn’t a lot of fat on my upper arm, and there isn’t very much muscle either, so the nurse, Beauty is her name, had to go at an angle to ensure she could get the entire needle into my arm. Then she hit the plunger and pressed it as hard as she could. I could tell because she was gritting her teeth. It kinda makes you forget about the needle pain when the medicine squirts out of that tiny little needle hole into a space that’s just not big enough for the syringe contents. That’s why she had to grit her teeth, to get the medicine to rip into my muscle fibers.
For the singles shot Beauty grabbed a chunk of that flabby area on the back of my arm, where there isn’t any muscle, pinched it up to make a good target, then jammed that little short needle into my tender skin and forced the shingles killer stuff into my arm causing the same problem as with the other shot – not enough room for the syringe contents.
Now that it’s been a few hours, you’ll be happy to know that both arms hurt about the same since the shots. The “fortunate” part about getting the one that hurts the most in my left arm is that my right arm hurts all the time any way, so now they hurt about the same. It hurts to use either of them so there’s no immediate danger of favoring the right arm over the left. Maybe in a few days I can switch back to that routine.
Tonight I must facilitate our church council meeting, as I do every month. So, there is no resting this evening until I return around 2030. I might have to go a little early, with my propane torch, so I can seal up a leaky part above the narthex. As everyone knows, there’s absolutely nothing worse than a leak in your narthex. It’s very unsettling, and makes the carpet all wet unless you can get the buckets aligned just right. Since he leak is right smack in the middle of the doorway to the basement, getting around the drips becomes a challenge for those who wish to partake of after service snacks. And coffee. It’s a Lutheran church, so coffee is an absolute necessity. I say that, then must share that our Pastor does not drink coffee. Never has as far as I know. All the other Lutheran’s in the world, however, drink coffee. Just ask one of them.
I need to rest now because my arms hurt, and I’m hungry. I believe I’ll go smash a few eggs and make a sandwich. That’s one of the things we missed while in Mexico. I know, they have eggs down there, but we didn’t want to eat theirs and we didn’t think it would be a good idea to pack eggs in the food suitcase. Diane was really thinking when packing for the trip home because she knew we didn’t have any bread in the house, so she packed the few remaining pieces of the loaf of Bimbo bread we bought in Mexico. We’re not sure if we violated any immigration laws by importing bread from Mexico, but no one said anything. Hope they’re not reading this. If they are, I know a lawyer who may, or may not, be able to help extricate me from whatever jail into which “they” decide to incarcerate me.
Perhaps I should start a fund …
To end this, I’m including a couple of pictures from the trip. The first one was taken while we were waiting for the airport shuttle to arrive. The shuttle, by the way, was a very nice tour bus instead of a crampy little van like we had the day we arrived.
This next one is two of the 4 ‘greeters’ we met each morning when heading for the stairs or elevator. The rest of their families is scattered all over the place. They really aren’t a bother, but if you stop to look at them for very long, they come right up looking for something to eat.
As you all know, Diane was blessed with a bright yellow iPhone 5C on the 20th, and I received her hand-me-down old iPhone 4. Not an iPhone 4S, but just a 4. Her old phone is just as pristine and clean as the day I took it out of the box to set it up two years ago so I was all for it. You also know that the reason for this need was because I dropped my 4S too many times and broke the screen. I gave it to Jeff for showing us the girls’ new puppy which came to our house named Mallory, but left with her new name, Roku. That’s the number 6 in Japanese. Jeff wanted a “6” name because she has 6 white toes. She’s 10 weeks old and is already twice the size of Ozzie. When she grows up she’s expected to weigh in around 140+. Big dog.
Today was the first time I’ve been allowed to take my ‘new’ phone out of the house so it was a total surprise to me when it fell out of my lap and crashbanged on the garage floor upon returning from wherever it was we went. Seeing this, Diane pursed her perfectly formed, lightly tinted lips, marched in the house with an over-the-shoulder dictate that I need to carry my phone in a case, and she had the perfect one. The phone is a white one and so is the case. It’s a Hello Kitty one that’s she had, ‘Just in case.’ She thought I wouldn’t like it, but I think it’s just absolutely adorable.
It’s been raining most of the day so it’s good to be inside. The only trips we’ve taken, so far, was to pick up Mary, Trudy, and Glenn at 0600 for a trip to the airport, back home, them to Home Depot in Longview to get a $100 error, in their favor, corrected, then to Columbia Feed & Seed for Panzee dog food. So, it turned out to be a pretty busy travel day in the rain. Thankfully, due to Diane’s superb driving skills, we made it to and from every one of our chosen destinations.
It’s only 5:01 pm right now, but I’m really tired. No nap this morning kinda wrecked me for the day. So, I’m calling it quits early. No staying up until 11 pm like I normally do.
Hope everyone is safe and sound in your own abodes, or wherever it is you wish to be.
Greetings fellow astronauts. I hope all is well with you as we zoom through the outer reaches of space, under our very own moon, which just happens to be full at this very moment. It’s lighting up our back yard as if it’s lined with tiki torches. I really don’t have any experience with tiki torches other than the ones that were lit in our presence while visiting Hawaii once.
… and tiki torches are as much fun as the company we keep while in their presence … I was in heaven …
So, here’s what the moon looked like, kinda. It’s ‘kinda’ because the photo is from June 22nd, the last time I took a picture of the moon. I’m not often compelled to take pictures of the moon because I see it all the time. When it’s not cloudy, anyway.
All of the foregoing was from last night. I had to quit and go to bed because Diane told me to. We had a date with the vet for Breezie to catch up on her shots. She spent the night inside last night, which was unusual for her. But, the weather is changing, getting cooler, and she’s not dumb. She knows it’s OK to spend the night outside when it’s warm, not so good when it’s cold. Her appointment was at 0900 so when she went out with the dogs, at 0600, I cautioned her to be back before 0830 or she would be in deep kim chee. There’s nothing worse than that, in my humble experience.
As the morning progressed, I lay snoozing in my favorite spot in the living room. Then Diane’s phone beeped, and my iPad beeped, alerting us to the pending trip to the vet. I let the dogs out again, with explicit instructions to bring the cat back, but they didn’t. Apparently they couldn’t find her anywhere in the back yard. I didn’t believe them, but it turned out to be true because not long after they returned to the house, Breezie came slinking through the fence where the dogs can’t go. I should have believed them, I guess, but they generally aren’t very truthful in situations like that because their main focus is to get a treat for just going outside when I ask. They expect it every time, but only get one on the last trip before bedtime. You’d think they would learn.
So, the cat’s back, her kennel is clean, and we head for the doc. It was a fairly quiet trip with only an occasional “Roowaaar” indicating her displeasure about being locked up. At the vet it wasn’t a problem. She weighed in at 10 lbs, which surprised Diane because she looks skinny. She took her shots like a man, and even gulped down her pills without much fuss. Then we took her home and set her free.
Apple released IOS7 yesterday for all their hand-held devices so me, being on the cutting edge of technology, and not in the least bit afraid of change, immediately downloaded it onto my iPad and broken iPhone. I also put it on Diane’s iPad. We both like the new look and functionality. I couldn’t put it on Diane’s iPhone because there’s not enough memory available to do it. She’s got too much stuff on her phone. It is, however, one with the least memory available at the time, 8 GB, I think, so all I have to do is just start deleting random things until the update can be installed.
You needed to know all of that.
Now, the day is about done, and we’re both almost in our jammies. I’m not, she is. We just got home from leaving the dogs alone for almost 8 hours today. Lots of stuff got done and I just can’t wait to tell you about it.
Our first stop of the day was the Restore Store in St. Helens, but we didn’t find anything we had to have, so headed to the VA Hospital on Pill Hill in Portland where I got a new picture taken for my new VA card because I lost the one I had. I also lost my ACE card at the same time. They just fell out of my wallet someplace so I removed everything from that wallet, which I purchased at a flea market in San Diego. Now I’m using one Diane gave me that Avon sells. It works well. Everything fits nice and tight. So far.
After the VA we worked our way over to Hillsboro to do a little looking at their Restore Store. Diane found a bunch of bottles of cleaning ‘stuff’, and we each got a different chair for our computer tables. The ones we had were OK, but too big. The ones we bought, $10 each, were from some business that apparently replaced all of their conference room chairs. They had a bunch of them.
From that store we worked our way toward 73rd and Frances Street to meet up with Rick and Jodi at their home. We planned to be there by 3 pm, but a pool supply store got in the way and required me to buy some new temp sensors for the hot tub. Not a cheap stop, but if it resurrects the hot tub, it will be worth every penny.
We arrived at R & J’s about 3:06 pm. They were sitting on their front porch looking at their watches when we drove up. We joined them and visited for a while, then investigated all the work Rick has done around the house. Their house, incidentally, looks brand new, and the hot tub has its own house that matches the big one. Diane wanted me to see all of that so I would feel bad about our yard, but it didn’t work because there’s really no comparison. You see, where we have lots of grass, R & J have lots of rocks and cement. They do have a lawn, but I bet it almost takes longer to get the mower started than it does to mow it. This sounds bad, I know, but I don’t think Rick will mind. Their place is awesome. It would be fun to have a yard that we could clean up with a leaf blower to dust off the rocks once in a while.
OK, Rick, now I’ll apologize for that outburst. It wasn’t justified, and we love you both dearly. You know that. My fingers just get out of control some times, ya know?
OK – after visiting for a while, we headed out to Bugatti’s for dinner. This is the one on Cornell near the Tanesbourne Mall area. The food was outstanding, but the visit was better. When we were seated, the place was nearly empty. I ordered spaghetti with prawns, Diane had a piece of dead chicken nicely splayed and arrayed on top of some green rigatoni, Rick has a HUGE meat ball sandwich with really good french fries, and Jodi had an artichoke sandwich with chicken, I think. I’m the only one who ate everything. Everyone else got boxes to go. We visited all through the meal and Diane didn’t once reprimand me for speaking with my mouth full of food. Then we visited for about an hour after we were all done. By the time we were done visiting, the waiter had made about 10 passes with the water jug, silently urging us to depart. By this time the place was packed. Totally. I guess it was time for us to leave, so we did.
We drove home, without stopping, and were greeted by the two barky dogs. Panzee is just so overjoyed to see us, whether we’ve been gone a minute, or a week. Ozzie? He barks his hello, but he just walks on past us, barking randomly, making his way to the front yard so he can relieve himself. Too funny. Breezie was sleeping on the back porch and has ignored us since we got home. No doubt she’s sleeping off the three shots she got this morning.
Once everyone was settled down, I checked the front porch and guess what? Diane’s new iPhone 5C was laying right there in the open for anyone to snatch. But they didn’t because no one comes up our street unless they live there. Nice being on a dead-end. Her new phone is yellow, her favorite color. I’ve been trying to figure it out since we got home.
Now it’s 10 pm and time for me to quit and go to sleep.
Greetings from the Cat Central. Today was chosen as the annual cat migration from the display case to the dining room table. Unlike last year, they were not transported individually, but with the aid of Avon box lids. They are pretty handy to have around. We have lots of them because Diane buys Avon products just for the fun of it and she sells it, too. If you’re inclined, you can buy from Diane’s Avon account online and have it delivered directly to your door, or post office, if you don’t have a door. If all of you did that, on a regular basis, I could retire again. That was a shameless plug for my lovely bride and I’m not a bit ashamed for doing it.
Before going to church this morning, I went out, with some urging, to see about patching the roof to the ’79 Winnebago. You may recall that it leaked a bit during our trip to Fort Stevens in Hammond, Oregon. It didn’t leak much, or long, but it leaked and it seemed to be prudent to fix it. All the turmoil of getting home, however, lowered that priority, however, and I kinda lost it in the white noise that makes up the bottom range of my memory. Diane, however, made it very clear that I needed to do something about it before it rained or she would get cranky. So, I found my really old can of Henry roof ‘stuff’.
Once I pried the lid off, I discovered there was about an inch of solidified matter on the top of about half an inch of useable coating. Figuring it would be enough to seal the seam that I suspected of leaking, I rushed right out of the house and climbed up on the RV roof. The leaky part is toward the front, so I cautiously made my way past both ceiling fans, and the air conditioner, and kneeled down to do the job.
I couldn’t find a putty knife, which would have been the perfect tool for applying it because it’s really thick. Instead, I found a really dull inch-wide chisel with a handle long enough to allow me to get to the sticky stuff without getting it all over me – just the fingers I used to hold the chisel.
The coating went on nicely, as I remembered it did when I first used it about 2-3 years ago, so the job went quickly. That was a good thing, too, because about the time I grabbed the first rung of the ladder to the roof, mist was falling from the sky. It wasn’t actually falling because mist just kind of blows around with the wind, like a cloud. There wasn’t any wind, though, so it kinda let gravity have more of a roll in its direction. So, it started getting a bit wet. Thankfully, the sticky stuff sticks to anything, no matter what, so it worked just fine.
After church we brought Diane’s Mom, Jean, home with us to entertain the dogs while Diane cooked another one of her gourmet meals made with dead chicken. I watched football. I also sat on the couch with Mom to show her recent pictures of what’s been going on with us. You’ve seen some of them, so I won’t bore you with them, again.
I will, however, show you the before …
… and after of the Cat Migration …
Next their home will be cleaned thoroughly, and all of the cats will be dusted and returned to a new place in the cabinet. Since the cats are not Lutherans, they don’t care where they wind up … there’s no need to ensure they go back to the space they’ve occupied for the past year or so. That makes the return far easier.
During the migration, an event in which I was not allowed to participate, I watched more football on the Man Room TV. I think I watched Peyton Manning’s Denver Broncos beat Eli Manning’s New York Giants. As I recall, it wasn’t really too difficult for Peyton to beat up his little brother. While watching this, I was interrupted once in a while with the soothing sound of distant thunder, then it rained for a little while quite nicely. I didn’t go out to check my patch job because I don’t really care if it gets wet. Well, I do care, but not enough to go out in the rain to find out. I’m pretty sure it’s OK. I’ll look tomorrow. If it’s not raining.
With the rain, we say farewell to summer. The temperatures are dropping and, according to some old guys Diane listens to, we’re supposed to have a really bad winter. I don’t know what tha means because I don’t know what a really good winter is so there is no point of reference. I think a really good winter is the last one we spent in Hawaii, in 1989, just before I was discharged from the Navy. As I recall, it was 80+ degrees on the January day we flew home, and it was 2 degrees when we arrived in Portland. Kinda nuts, huh? Some folks wonder how we could do something like that. I mean, we had been living in Hawaii for the past 3 years, and we flew to Oregon in the middle of winter? The main reason is that we had already sent Jeff to Scappoose and figured we needed to check up on him. In truth, we’ve never regretted that move, except for the first few days when we froze our little nuts off. Well, at least one of us did that. Then we just got used to it.
That pretty much sums up this Sunday. I know, it’s probably not what you expected, but I’m not a poet. Perhaps you noticed if you actually this far.
Oh, yes! I surprised and pleased to get a call from our friend, Tom. Remember him? The one who was at death’s door not too long ago? We talked for almost 53 minutes. It was awesome!
Now for a couple of pictures I took in Ocean Park when we visited the Rod Run To The End Of The World …
This is the new color scheme for my old truck that looks suspiciously like this one …
I think I’ll keep the shocks on my truck, and it will have chrome bumpers. I like chrome bumpers.
… and this is Cindy & Gary in the 1962 VW bus they displayed at the show. It’s pretty cool.
Though it’s difficult for me, so early in the morning, the numbers will resolve if I just stare at them long enough … Yes! it’s 0645 and, as a friend recently told me, “I woke up this morning sucking air, so it’s going to be a good day.” I agree. I’m going golfing later.
But first, I need to catch up a little … so where to begin …
Thursday was two days ago so I’m just going to have to make something up for what happened that day. There’s nothing on my calendar, that Diane insists I keep current so I’ll know what I’m supposed to do next. She’s very adamant about that. I’m usually pretty good about doing that so, a few days down the road, I can look back and see what I did. It helps me separate fiction from fantasy. A little bit. Since Thursday is blank, that means I either really didn’t do anything, or I was on a secret mission to check up on the aliens I know who live in the old rock pit in Scappoose.
Or, I might have been working in The Bathroom with Daniel. I actually think that’s the one because I usually have some sort of residual memory of visiting the aliens. I’m not totally sure where they’re from but it must be a pretty progressive planet because they go through beer and cantaloupe like there’s no tomorrow. That’s another story. We’re working in The Bathroom.
Since I have no clear memory of the steps taken, I’ll just make stuff up based on the last results I saw regarding this project.
When Dahlgren’s opened, I paid them a visit to get the necessary supplies needed for finishing The Bathroom. Yes, for finishing The Bathroom. We’re that close. What I obtained was baseboards, wainscoting top rails, and shoe moulding. And glue. Well, it’s called ‘construction adhesive’ but it’s really glue.
I believe the goal for Thursday was to finish the project. Of course that didn’t happen. I know this is true because I was over there working again on it yesterday. So, on Thursday, we probably only got the baseboards in and a couple of walls of wainscoting before we simultaneously ran out of glue and pre-cut wainscoting. It was kind of interesting the way that worked out because we were absolutely positive we had plenty of both. Since we didn’t, we decided to call it a day and go, perhaps, take a nap, or something. Normally, when I’m not given clear directions, I simply rearrange things in the garage which gives me a sense of accomplishment even though it serves no purpose. It’s easy to do when Diane’s not here and her car is gone because it give me a lot more room to stack, and restack things. Then, when she returns she usually looks at her calendar and, not seeing anything scheduled for me, looks around and says with a bright smile, “Honey, you moved something! I’m so proud of you.”
She does that because I started doing something similar to her with regard to her hair. You know, when a woman gets her hair cut, no matter how little or how much, it’s imperative that her significant other immediately notice, and express how amazing removal of a few hairs can make such a difference. Being unaware of those rules, early in our marriage, I suffered a great deal because I didn’t notice many times in a row, over a rather long period of time. So, we had a discussion about it one day during which the rules were defined in great detail, in a manner that firmly implanted my need to ‘notice.’ It worked OK, for a while, then I discovered I’d missed a few alterations about which I was supposed to offer compliments, so I devised a new approach that never fails. In fact, it worked so well, that I was asked to stop doing it.
It’s simple … whenever Diane and I are apart for more than an hour, the first time I see her, no matter where it is, I looked at her in wide-eyed wonder and said, “you look amazing! Did you have something done with your hair?”
In the beginning her responses started out, “no, silly. I just went to the store.” That quickly devolved into, “OK, knock it off. You KNEW I just went to get the mail.” So, I was given permission to cease and desist. Oddly, however, whenever she got a haircut after that, I noticed. So, in a way, I trained myself to be a little more observant, I guess.
Friday morning it was overcast again, and almost looked like it might rain. You know, those summer thunder-storm type rains. Loud and wet. But, it didn’t, so Daniel and I were able to use the power tools outside to finish cutting the wainscoting pieces needed to cover The Bathroom walls. First, however, he met me out our house in order to get the old compressor Jack gave me, years and years ago, so we could use nail guns to help stick everything to the wall and floor. We stopped by ACE to get enough glue to finish the project.
The first thing we did was cut the top railing and the shoe moulding, and made them fit precisely in their assigned spots. It was very satisfying and exciting for both of us because these final actions were signaling the completion of the project. Seems like we’ve been working on this thing for months. No, years. We actually have been working on it for months.
So, with the exception of the need to paint the wainscoting, and reinstall the sinks, we’re done.
Yesterday evening ended with an exceptional meal of fresh salmon at the home of our Lion friends, Hank and Lynn, Kendra’s Mom & Dad. Hank is a District Representative with the Oregon Lions and a pretty darn good salmon cooker, too. So, he lured us all to his home with salmon in order to conduct a meeting, which was perfectly OK. Both Diane and I had a great time. We got to meet people from throughout our district and hear about some of the amazing things their respective clubs accomplish with just a few people.
Now it’s Saturday morning and a frightening thing just happened to me. I took a break from this in order to make a pot of coffee and toast a bagel, to ensure I am properly fortified for this morning’s game of golf. Jim always does 18 holes but my body is tuned to only 9, so it’s going to be a work out. As I was sitting back down on my half of the couch, two bagel halves balanced precariously on top of a paper towel in my left hand, I was almost completely settled when one of the halves slipped neatly to the floor. When it slipped, everything went into slow motion for me as I watched helplessly as it fell, then roll away from the couch gathering bits of dog and cat hair as I chanted the mantra I’ve developed for just this specific moment … “not on the cheese side, not on the cheese side, not on the cheese side.” And it worked! When it stopped, it remained in a vertical position for just a fraction of a second too long for comfort, then slowly fell over on the un-toasted side. The other side was smeared with cream cheese which, in turn, was covered with bacon bits that are normally used on salads and such. I warm then in the microwave for 15 seconds before applying them to the cream cheese. Not only does it look pretty, it’s pretty tasty. Sadly, when a bagel is adorned in this manner, any jarring movement, like falling to the floor, will dislodge the bacon bits allowing them to escape the grip of cream cheese and fall to the carpet as it rolls. Consequently, there was a brief contest between me and the dogs to see who could capture the most bacon bits before Diane found out. It wasn’t really a contest because I let the dogs win. It would take me too long to pick off the cat and dog dander for me to really enjoy the few that found themselves dislodged. Without bothering to look, I ate the fallen half without even looking at it. I figured if any hairs were long enough to notice, I could just floss them through my teeth. Turns out, there weren’t any, now I must go brush them.
I need to do that because my alarm just went off alerting me of the fact that I must prepare myself for 18 holes of golf. I do that by sitting in one of the dining room chairs, standing up, walking around behind the chair, taking a pretend golf club from the pretend golf club bag, and swinging it a few times before returning it and retaking my seat in the pretend golf cart. Since we’re doing 18 holes, I must do this a minimum of 123 times to emulate what is bound to happen on the golf course.
If I survive, I’ll let you know how it went.
This morning happened early, almost like normal, but a little bit later. I think it was 0700 when the dogs let their presence be known. Until then, they were quiet like little church mice. At least I think they were. I’ve never actually seen a church mouse so cannot accurately report that they are actually quiet. I suppose the fact that I’ve never heard one while in church would serve to convince me that they really are quiet. Either that, or they don’t really exist. That’s hard to believe, however, because mice are pretty much everywhere.
After walking the dogs, we returned to the Winnebago innards and they got their normal ration of pouch food, which pleased them a great deal. It always pleases them a great deal. From their perspective, they just don’t get pleased a great deal often enough. Once a day is the limit.
When we returned, Diane was vertical and moving so I figured it was going to be a pretty good day. We both had out normal yogurt and and fruit, then drank coffee until the pot was empty. It was a bit weak, but it was good. We were all off to a good start, and I didn’t even feel the need to take my normal morning nap.
One of the priorities for today was to get some sort of something I could use to lay on under the RV, to could work on the fuel pump problem, so we went shopping. As luck would have it, Diane drove directly to the Goodwill store at the fairly new shopping center, that also has a Costco, in Warrenton. We mosied around in there and found all kinds of really cute things we didn’t know we needed. I mean, they were REALLY cute things. Probably the cutest things I’ve ever seen. My contribution was a little package that had two hose clamps, which aren’t really cute, and an old, solid wood, not plywood, coffee table. I’m going to take it home and refinish it so it looks like new then I’m going to put it in front of the living room couch where there currently isn’t one. It’s going to look very nice, I bet. Right now we’re using it for our outside table under the awning by the RV since I forgot to get the little brown plastic fold up one from the garage.
We returned to some happy dogs early afternoon and Diane set about making lunch. Today we had griddled steak, microwave mashed potatoes, and over baked corn on the cob. It was all exceptionally good, but the corn actually took first prize simply for the way Diane cooked it. “Oven baked corn on the cob?” you ask. “That’s true,” I respond. All you have to do is preheat your oven to 350 then toss the corn in for 25 minutes. The best part is, you don’t have to peel the corn first! It just goes in there just like you bought it from the store, unless you bought it already husked. Then, when your dinger goes off, or your phone barks at you, like Diane’s timer app, take the corn out of then oven and immediately run cold water on your hands for about 10 minutes, if you failed to use hot pads. Then, get a really sharp knife, and cut the large end off the ears, taking the first row of corn, if possible. Then just squeeze the little end like a tube of toothpaste and the cooked ear of corn will slowly emerge from the husks, minus most of those annoying little strings. It’s amazing! And it was done to perfection. So, good. I didn’t, by the way, take the corn out of the oven so I didn’t burn my hands. Diane did, and she used hot pads.
After lunch, Diane made herself some tea and went to her chair under the awning, in the fresh air. It was raining off and on, but that’s OK. It was nice and fresh. And quiet. While she was relaxing, I went to work trying to line up the satellite antenna. I set it up yesterday and gave it a minor effort, but couldn’t get it to work. This time I got the zip code for the spot we’re in so I could properly aim the antenna, then made the necessary adjustments using a 1/2 inch box end wrench. In case you’re interested, the DirecTV settings for zip code 97121 are: azimuth 132, elevation 34, rotation 111. The hard part is setting the azimuth. In case you’ve had trouble with that in the past, perhaps you will benefit from my experience regarding this adjustment.
Once you set the elevation and rotation, take your best shot at aiming the antenna in the proper direction where you think it should be. Fortunately, for me, there is a compass glued to one leg of the stand Jack gave me, so I knew where 132 was. The trick with using a manual compass is that you first have to make sure the compass is aligned with the colored needle on the N. Then, if you have the right kind of compass, it will have markings all the way around it from 0 to 359 then back to 0.
When you figure out which way you need to point it, stand very still and point your left arm in that direction. It works best if you do this directly over the antenna so you can see how close you are to being correct. Remember, all you are trying to do is get close. It’s very possible that you might get lucky on the first aim and get a great signal.
Regarding the signal … there are satellite signal meters you can purchase that I understand help with the alignment, but I figure that would take the fun out of guessing and, perhaps, getting it right the first time.
Needless to say, I didn’t get it right the first time so had to make numerous trips from the receiver, to check the signal level, then back to the antenna to move it 1 or 2 degrees one way or another, then back to the receiver to check again. I did this about 15 times, I think, before I actually got a signal. Then, with a bit a tweaking, I got a really good signal and was watching Jeff Gianola on Channel 6 News, just like that! Way out here in Fort Stevens. Go figure.
Oh, another really important thing to remember when you’re setting up your antenna is to make sure the vertical part of the pipe, to which the antenna is bolted, is absolutely vertical. You can guess at this, too, if you wish, but most of them have a bubble level in the top of the vertical pipe that simplifies this step. When I was setting it up at home, I didn’t know it was there, so had all kinds of trouble getting it vertical with two little levels. So, that’s the first thing I did this time.
Here’s what it should look like when you’re finished …
All the time I was going back and forth from the antenna to the receiver, Diane sat peacefully in her chair, not questioning me about how it was going. She just read her book and must have figured I was doing something useful.
On my last trip out I told her the news was on if she was interested which excited her no end. She just loves the news and ran right inside to watch it … and fiddle around with the DirecTV remote which she hasn’t used in a while. Since we have a DVR in the RV, she set Diane Sawyer to record, then we took the dogs to the beach down by the shipwrecked Peter Iredale. There are signs in Fort Stevens that actually have “Ship Wreck” on it, with an arrow pointing the way. Everyone in Oregon knows the ship’s name so it’s not needed on the signs an it saves the parks service a ton of money by not having to buy so much sign paint. Here’s what’s left of the wreck …
When we got to the beach, Panzee was ready to run because there were dog tracks all over the place and so many new things to smell. Ozzie just sat on my arm, looking out the window during the trip, trying to look nonchalant, but I knew he was excited. He couldn’t fool me. He was, however, a little hesitant at first because he absolutely abhors leashes. He’s main this pretty plain every time we hook him up, but it’s a rule. He deals with it, in his fashion, like by laying down so Diane has to drag him along behind her which causes people to stare. Then she will pick him up, which is his real desire. He’s pretty little so he’s not very hard to drag. It just looks bad to some folks.
When we got down to the hard sand, we went north on the beach, away from the ship wreck that lures a lot people, where there was virtually no one around. Seeing this, we removed the leashes and just let them run. They had a terrific time, and got a lot of exercise. Ozzie got the most exercise, though, because he ran circles around Diane like he was in orbit, and just couldn’t break free of her gravitational pull. Finally, however, he did. Somewhere in his little body he found a booster rocket and chased after me and Panzee. It as fun to watch because he’s normally such a little recluse.
I need to let you know that I won’t be able to publish this entry from this location. We have no phone signal. Funny, huh? We’re watching satellite TV in HD but can’t call home. When you get this, you’ll wonder why I’m sharing this because, obviously, it got sent if you’re reading it. It’s just something I needed to tell you.
Oh ya! Here’s something I learned today …
Who knew?
As you all know, we were going to the beach yesterday to spend a few days at Fort Stevens State Park. Diane loaded pretty much everything we own into the old ’79 Winnebago, except for the cat. Then I strapped myself into the pilot’s seat, turned the key, and … nothing happened. Well, I turned the key, and shorted the two ignition wires together, and nothing happened. That’s how I normally start it because the button fell off so I put it in the old truck. Remember? Now it’s just two blue wires hanging out there, and it works just great.
The “nothing” turned out to be two dead batteries. It didn’t take long to determine the cause, either, because the headlight switch was suspiciously in the ‘On’ position where I left it the day before when I parked it after we went to get all that gas the day before. So, the lights were on all night. At least part of the night.
Diane was all settled into our chase car (we still don’t have a two bar) and she was kinda bummed when I exited the rig and gave her the bad news. Then I got the jumper cables and we tried to kick start it. It gave a few pitiful spins, but nothing like it needed to fire and I was having memories of the old truck from a few days ago, but different.
The next step was to just remove the batteries and install the ones from the old D22 which are actually fairly new. They start the D22 with hardly any effort. So, install them I did. It took me a while to get all the wires on the correct terminals because they’re all the same color (black) so there was a brief moment in time where the first battery was wired backwards causing a satisfying spark, letting me know it was full of juice, and not happy.
Finally it was done and I reassumed my proper position in the pilot’s chair and turned the key. Tentatively, I reached for the blue wires, hoping this was the solution. The wires touched, there was a brief spark, and the engine came immediately to life. It roared with satisfaction. We were all happy campers, almost. We still had to navigate the 60 or so miles on Highway 30 to Warrenton where Fort Stevens lives.
The trip, itself, was uneventful, and only about 2 hours long. It would have been less time but, like normal, there is construction on Highway 30 that require the use of people with stop signs to randomly change traffic patterns from two lanes to 1 for designated stretches.
But, we made it just fine, got checked in, and drove right to our reserved spot, N-25, that has a southern view. I made the necessary adjustments of the steering wheel to line the rig up to back into he spot. When I started backing up I noticed a fairly large puddle of what looked suspisciously like gasoline on the pavement. Committed, however, I had to continued backing until I had the rig right where Diane wanted it, al the while glancing back to the trail I was leaving.
Once parked, I snuck up on one of the puddles and confirmed my gasoline guess, then looked under the engine to see if it was still leaking. It wasn’t so my initial suspicion was the fuel delivery system. It was a deja vu moment from the D22 when I had to replace the mechanical fuel pump. In order to find out if my theory was correct, I instructed Diane on how to start the engine with the two blue wires while I draped my body over the right front wire so I could watch the fuel pump.
She touched the wires and my theory became fact right away as gas came spurting through the breather hole above the pump diaphragm, the part that isn’t supposed to have gas in it. Then my concern shifted back up Highway 30 as I wondered how far we had been driving while pumping gas out onto the highway, and how was the engine even running when the pump was broken? It was a literal whirlwind of doom between my ears for a moment, thinking that it may have cost us $100 to drive 60 miles. Worst case is that we got about 1/2 mile to the gallon on this trip, and we still have to get home. The good news is that the solution is fairly simple, and I have tools. What I don’t have are work clothes into which I could climb that would allow me to do my job without ruining my good khaki shorts. I would do it nude, but Diane won’t let me. Besides, I think the park rangers would object. It’s probably illegal, too. So, I need old clothes.
I suspect the fuel pump failed after we entered the park, because it wasn’t until then that the gas fumes began to fill the cockpit. It was not a good thing. Diane found it hard to breath while inside so we fired up the fans and blew out the bad stuff while sitting calmly in our round chairs under the awning. The weather was pleasant the entire time we were sitting there, then it started getting dark so we decided to brave the interior.
The air was better, but still not clear of the fumes. I briefly considered lighting a match, to see if it would just “Poof” them away, but thought better of it, and let the fans continue to do their thing. Soon it was tolerable and we felt it would be OK too cook something, just not with an open flame.
The decision for dinner was hamburger patties and left over Mexican rice. The patties were cooked on an electric griddle that has a panini mode so it can cook both sides at the same time, and the rice was reheated in the microwave. Milk, too much bread, cherry pie, and cookies rounded off the meal in a festive manner. It was all good.
I forgot to mention that when we came inside, the sky started sparking and booming as the predicted thunderstorms came ashore. It was an exciting time, and lasted for a while. Like all during dinner. It also rained, something we just love when snuggly inside our traveling abode. There’s something peaceful about sitting there, listening to the rain splatter on the roof.
After dinner, before bed, we tok the dogs out for a walk. The trip took us all the way around the “O” loop. We met lots of nice folks along the way, the dogs both evacuated their bowels, and bladders, and we all had some exercise.
Then we read for a while and went to bed. It was time.
As we lay in our twin beds under the fan, we detected it emitting a noticeable squeaking noise. Knowing there are no mice in the rig, it had to be the fan. Thankfully, I discovered that by covering my right ear, the one on which I normally lay, the squeak quit. Apparently the squeak frequency is exactly the same one that my left ear can’t hear. How fortunate for me. I suggested to Diane that she cover her right ear and see if it worked for her, but she refused letting me know she thought it was a supremely dumb idea.
Now it’s morning and time to get moving toward the direction of a solution for the gushing gas. It’s good this happened because I was seriously afraid that I would have to spend all day relaxing and reading. Now I have direction.
I’ll tell you how it goes.
Jedi James is a tiny little kitten that now lives with Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran down on Matzen Street. He’s either six or seven weeks old and full of energy, like a little kid. He probably weighs less than a can of soda and he’s just fun to watch. I still don’t get the name, so call him JJ because it’s one less syllable.
Here he is investigating the 4″ tiles I layed out so I wouldn’t screw it up when I put them on the wall.
Yes, I did some work on The Bathroom. The tiling is now about 2/3’s complete. It was a hot, sweaty day. For all my hard work, Diane bought me tacos and a burrito for lunch from Taco Bell.
Now the bad news – even Diane doesn’t know about this so I’m cherishing my remaining few moments of a relatively pain-free day. That may change once I publish this. But, ya know? I’ve gotta own up to my defaults. Most of them, anyway. This one just created more work for me, but it’s upsetting.
As you may have surmised, from previous posts, we have two Winnegabos. Both are old. We use the ’79 brave and have the ’73 Indian D22 on a restoration path that just got more complicated this afternoon. Here’s what happened.
In an effort to clean up our parking lot, across the street from the house, where all the blackberries live, I decided to move the ’73 and park it next to the ’79, which is in the driveway. It effectively blocks all access to the side of the garage Diane doesn’t use so it’s OK that that side is full of ‘stuff’. I’ve been wondering for a while, now, if the D22 would fit between the trees and the ’79. The trees are a barrier between us and our neighbors.
So, feeling frisky, I moved the Subaru, which is normally parked in that spot, and fired up the D22. The brakes worked pretty good when I started maneuvering into position, but faded more quickly than I had anticipated. I also misjudged how long 22′ really is.
Now, I know you’re thinking that I ran smack into the ’79, with its newly connected DirecTV DVR, but that isn’t the case at all. Instead, I backed into the corner of the garage. Damage to the house is minimal, regrettable, and easily repairable. The D22? It now has a ladder to the roof that is caved in, and there is a new tear in the aluminum rear that looks distinctly like the end of the gutter on that edge of the roof. It’s really nice. I may highlite it with some festive paint.
Since it’s been raining off and on for the past three days, I got the big tarp out and covered it up so it wouldn’t leak. Diane will think I covered it up to hide the damage, which may be partially true, but I don’t think she even realizes I moved it from across the street. She hasn’t said a word about it, which I find unusual. It’s like I do things, and no one notices. Except when I do things like back into the house.
On the positive side of this – yes, there is a positive side – the damage caused to the D22 is forcing me to address the already water damaged roof at the rear of the rig. I’ve just been putting it off, doing other things. Now, I’ll have to do it.
Fortunately, I know a guy … he lives in Keizer and he once replace the entire roof of his old Winnebago. So, there is a precedent and I know the expert. That’s handy. The way it is right now, all I’ll have to do is remove about 1700 screws and peal the metal from the back toward the front and see what kind of project I’m looking at. The roof seems pretty solid on the inside, but spongy on the outside in that area, so It’s going to be interesting.
Now I’m going to quit and go to bed before Diane reads this. She’s watching ‘Dancing With The Stars’, so, hopefully I’ll be asleep before she gets there and maybe she won’t remember all of this in the morning.
I’ll let you know.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll take a picture of my mishap and share it.
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