Graduation, Soccer, & Jimmy Buffett

Posted on August 28, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

After a grueling 12 years of cramming, Cedric Dean Bradley is on the verge of graduating from High School. All he has to do is get through the ceremony this evening at 7 pm and the party tomorrow. His graduating class is the first one from the Columbia County Christian School in Warren, Oregon. Sadly, it will also be the only high school graduating class because next year the school will only be K-8. So, he will be a part of history. For his next adventure, he hopes to join the Navy as a Chaplain’s assistant then use his that experience and his GI Bill to fulfill his desire to be a Youth Pastor. So, here’s a two photo rocket ship ride of Cedric from pre-school to August 8th at his Great Grandma Jean’s 88th Birthday Party …

He’s all growed up now but his Mom is going to have a difficult time cutting him loose to join the big herd. Oh, that’s him on the left in the photo, in case you didn’t know.

For soccer, I only have this from yesterday where Lydia’s High School team participated in a jamboree against a host of other teams from the greater Portland area. They played The Dalles and Century, and beat them both. The Dalles was 4-0 and Century was 1-0. Jennifer and I suffered through a 1.5 hour delay, due to no umpires, in the horrendous heat to watch all this. It was brutal.

The significance of the above photo is to show you how Lydia spent most of the game, watching her team keep the ball away from her goal. She’s the little yellow speck near trhe mid-field line.

Diane was on another mission in Portland watching a facility make eyeglass lenses so couldn’t participate in that delay. Because of it, however, she was able to make the 1-hour drive from home to arrive just in time to sit down and enjoy the last 35 seconds of the game. Since I was the one who determined that she could make it in time for most of the game I spent the remainder of the day on Diane’s NHWTP List. For those of you who are partially acronymically challenged, that mans Not Happy With This Person List.

On the way home she drove us down to the St. Helens docks which is always peaceful and provided a moment of solitude where I could (hopefully) eliminate the need for further punishment. Imagine our delight when we discovered that Jimmy Buffett’s little sister was in town.

Now, I’m not suggesting that Jimmy’s Little sister is a cabin cruiser. No sir. I’m just thinking that maybe it was named after her even though I have absolutely no idea if Jimmy has a sister or, if he does, if her name is Jenny. This is all pure speculation on my part. Still, it’s kinda fun to live in my head and enjoy the possibilities.

Have a good day.

Golf, Musical Instruments, Wedded Bliss, & Fireworks

Posted on July 5, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

My prolific nature has run its course, it seems, because I can’t seem to conjure up topics, much less all the words needed, to do a daily post. Perhaps if I kept them short and simple I could, but I can’t do that, either. So, I’m just going to start flinging words out willy-nilly each Sunday afternoon to see if that resonates with me as a suitable routine.

On June 28th, a Friday, Cedric and I participated in a golf tournament for his church. The other two in our foursome were Shawn and Leonard, both of whom profess to play golf about once a year. I gotta tell you, however, for casual golfers they both can hit the ball a long ways. Way longer than me or Cedric. I think Cedric and I tied off the tee box for hitting past the women’s tee box consistently. That was our goal, of course. It’s one of the finer points of golf I instilled in Cedric’s bag of tricks. It’s just a bad day all around when a golf, no matter how bad they may be, can’t hit a drive beyond the Red tee markers. Once in the fairway we all plodded along fairly well, making it to the green with birdie chances many times, but only cashing in once. We did this because it was a simple Scramble format where all golfers hit from the location of the best hit ball in each instance. In the end, we wound up last at 4 over par, a score I’d take any day of the week. The winner won with 2 under par. So, we were only 6 strokes off the trophy and I think we’re both OK with that. Cedric drove most of the time and did a stellar job.

Here’s proof Cedric can drive. I’m making a copy of this so he can take it to DMV. It’s my understanding that no other proof of ability is necessary in Oregon.

This is Cedric just before hitting his drive on #8.On Monday, the 29th, we had a visit from an Anderson Windows salesman to get an estimate to replace all of our windows. Turns out windows aren’t cheap any more as the initial bid came out at $52,200. Of course there were discounts for multiple window installs (we have 16), and another discount for agreeing to have the work done right now. That brought the estimate down to $33K+, still a bit steep for we who live on a fixed income. We need windows in the living room, however, and the kitchen windows are kinda weird, so we went for a 3-fur deal. They will be constructed precisely to fit the openings and installed within 6-8 weeks.

On Tuesday, the 30th, Jeff and three of his friends show up to pick up the Lowry organ that’s been languishing in the garage for the past 6-7 years, and to move the player piano I plan to restore to the basement that’s been in the garage a little bit longer. To put things into perspective, Jeff, on the right, when he’s standing up straight, is between 6’2″ and 6’3″. So, we had hefty help which was beneficial because the piano had to be moved down the road, into the side yard, then all the way around the house to the basement. We used two pieces of plywood, moving from one to the other, then moving the back piece to the front. In all, the back piece of plywood was moved to the front approximately 72 times making the entire trip about 200 yards, give or take a 100. I’m just guessing, but it was a long ways.

While in the early stages of getting the piano out of the garage, Diane returned prematurely and just drove out onto our meticulously manicured yard. I know, it’s pretty much dead at the moment, but you should see it when it rains, something that hasn’t happened here in a couple of months.On July 1st, Daniel and Jennifer celebrated 20 years of marital bliss. That surprises lots of people because Jennifer doesn’t even look 20 years old yet. But, it’s true. Since they are both working similar shifts, Daniel at Intel, and Jennifer at Nike, they did a proper celebration when one of Daniel’s friends flew them to Pacific Beach in his private plane. They had a great time, and, I’m told, a terrible lunch. Still, it’s a memory for the ages. We’re very proud of our Baby Girl in her accomplishments during those 20 years.

At 2 p.m. on July 4th I participated in a nationwide bell ringing ceremony to commemorate our Independence. I did this with other members of American Legion Post 42 in St. Helens who were stationed at all the big bells we could find around town. Once again, as I did last year, I had the honor of ringing the Warrior Rock Lighthouse Bell which has a colorful history. The bell resides in a half-size replica of the original lighthouse that sits in front of the old courthouse, where Wynette worked most of her life. I rang the bell 13 times while Diane stood beside me to ensure I got the count correct. Later that evening we returned to a spot on a residential street that overlooks the marina and has an unobstructed view of Sand Island where the fireworks are ignited. Check Google Maps for 90 Wyeth Street St. Helens, Oregon if you want to see where we were.

The fireworks started at 10 p.m. and lasted until 11 or so. It was pretty nice but got us to bed far later than normal. But, we made it up in time to go to church this morning so there’s still hope we won’t be struck by lightning any time soon. To end the day, after eating more than necessary at Zhen’s, we watched the USA Soccer Ladies win the day. It was pretty awesome.

Hope everyone had a safe 4th of July celebration.

Richard Petty, PT Cruisers, and Las Vegas The Show

Posted on April 1, 2015 by Jerrie Cate

Today was especially hard for me because I thought my entire life was perfect in all aspects the, out of the blue, Diane told me she’d had enough of my shenanigans and wanted to be set free. So, I went down to the jail, paid her bail, and did just that. Her court date isn’t until, like June 1st, so we’ll have to come back and see what happens. Things were fine until she went to see “Thunder From Down Under.” You know, all those naked Aussies dancing and such. It was girls night out and she apparently had a really good time. It is an unspoken deal between the two of us that I will never asked what happened and she’ll never tell. I, on the other hand, had a very sedate evening sitting in our room, watching all the pretty lights until I got tired and had to go to bed. Alone. That was the first time in a very long time. Like years.

This morning, once I got her released, we went to visit Pat & Pat at their Worldmark condo on the southern part of the Las Vegas Strip so we could tag along with them to the Las Vegas Motor Speedway where he was going to make a few laps in a NASCAR race car. He was signed up to participate in the Richard Petty racing experience.

It was a special event and we were honored to have been invited to witness his experience and share in his joy. Diane, Short Pat, and I even got to participate, as observers, in the training evolution but we didn’t get to wear fire-retardant suit like Pat did. I, personally, felt cheated on that note because there were dozens of them just hanging there. Wouldn’t have hurt if they let me wear one, just for fun. But they wouldn’t.

The training took place in the infield of the speedway which was quite a treat for us all because it’s such a huge place. Also, since it’s right next to Nellis AFB, we were treated to numerous F-18 fighter jets flying over as they practiced take off’s and landings. Pretty impressive. Diane loves that sound. Makes her swoon.

Once out at the track, each of the drivers posed next to a Richard Petty 43 car before moving on to their assigned vehicle. Our Pat was the first one out since all the other drivers opted for the additional ride along with the pro driver to get the real feel of the track.

Then one of the drivers cranked up one of the cars on the track. It’s the one they use to take drivers on a fast ride, like 165 mph, before they do it themselves with a ride along driving coach who has a kill switch should things get out of control. The sound of that car cranking up was an attention getter on a large-scale, especially since it was only about 10 feet away from us. Very thrilling. Diane had to sit down.

Then Pat got in his assigned car and flashed a thumbs up before starting the engine and entering the track for his attempt to hit all the gates and make the 1.5 mile trip as fast as he could.

There was another fun looking car at the track but no amount of whining by Pat would have made it possible for the professionals to allow Pat inside the car. I don’t blame him. I wasn’t signed up to drive, and I ever whined a little. Looked like it might be a lot of fun.

Once the ride was over, Pat exited the car and staggered back to our side of the barrier that kept us out of the pit area. Actually, I don’t think he walked at all … he kinda floated back with a really silly grin on his face which let us all know he’d just experienced the thrill of a life time. And we were there to see it. Below Pat and Pat share a moment in history that won’t soon be forgotten.

Watch of the drivers got a video of their ride from inside the car, and I also took video of him each time he flew past us on the front straightaway. He was moving along very nicely. When it was all done he learned that he’d set a new track record for rookies of 155.3 and was immediately offered a sponsor so he could go pro. What an honor. He turned them down because he didn’t want to spoil the thrill of that initial ride and didn’t want to make it a job. Once it’s a job, it’s no long fun. It’s work.

We left the track and headed back to town. On the way the girls did a search for a nice place to eat. They came up with an Italian place called Norman’s, or something like that, that was a little ways out of town, away from the strip. It was very authentic and the food was delicious. I had my forever favorite spaghetti ala carbonara. It’s really great stuff. Diane had raviolis, Tall Pat had spaghetti and meat balls, and Short Pat had tortellini. We were all well fed and thoroughly enjoyed the meal and the visit with Pat and Pat.

Then we monied back to Worldmark and retrieve Diane’s new Impala. Sadly, it was time to bid adieu and go our separate ways. But, we know we will see them again soon once we’re all back in the Portland area.

Here’s where we stayed. It’s one of the newer Travelodges recently acquired by Hilton and added to their expanding list of properties that we can use in our travels.

Last night was festive over at the Gold Coast Casino where we had our PT Banquet. The food was good, the service was excellent, and everyone had a really good time. One of the more interesting events, in addition to the many PT related stories people told, was that one lady, from Colorado, who bought two $10 tickets for a 50/50 raffle, won on both tickets. She got 1st prize of $350, missed on the 2nd place $225, and one 3rd place for $125. Not a bad night. What incredible luck.

This evening we went to see “Las Vegas, The Show” which is one we’ve seen on a previous visit. We chose to go again because it’s magnificent and we recommend it to anyone who has a notion to visit LV. Another draw was the theater is just around the corner from our hotel. Seriously, right around the corner.

Now we’re back in the room and will pack before retiring with the intention of embarking on our homeward journey tomorrow, a day earlier than originally planned. The lady at the front desk was ecstatic when I told her she could have her room back a day early. We need to do this so we can make it back to St. Helens in time to attend Easter service at our church.

So, I bid you farewell and have to point out that today is April 1st, and only part of what you’ve just read is true. You’ll just have to decide for your self which part.

Good night.

Matthew 15:20 & Family

Posted on August 30, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

It’s been six (6), count them, ess-i-ex days since my last entry and I fear that I won’t be able to fill you all in on what’s been going on. Actually, it’s not important that I do. What’s foremost in my mind is to relate a bit about what I learned in church last week. It’s something that I, and every other little kid in the world has griped about when it comes time to eat. Not just a meal, but pretty much anything. It’s about washing first.

According to Matthew 15:20, by my interpretation, it’s OK to eat with dirty hands.

…19“For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, slanders. 20“These are the things which defile the man; but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile the man.”

I know, most of you will disagree and side with Cedric who told me, when I pointed this out, that “cleanliness is next to godliness.” That’s an old saying that my research could not attribute to a biblical passage so it doesn’t count.

Logic dictates that washing ones hands before touching food you about to consume is the right thing to do, and I will readily admit that my interpretation of Matthew 15:20 is suspect, but when Diane read the lesson to our congregation last Sunday I kinda stopped listening. The reason, of course, was because I had to find a pencil so I could underline it for future reference. Then I folded it up and put in my pocket. I viewed it as validation that I didn’t really have to wash in order to eat.

I do, however, have to wash before opening the refrigerator, or any packaged food that others may wish to access after me. That’s a “Diane Rule” that everyone in the family knows. Even me. Therefore, unless I want to eat only food that falls on the floor, I’ll be washing my hands.

Besides, I’m not up to arguing with the dogs about floor food. It’s always been there’s in the past and I see no reason to change that unless it’s something they shouldn’t eat. Like chocolate. Or a newly warmed hot dog.

Just for fun, here’s Webster’s definition of “defile” …

Definition of DEFILE

transitive verb

: to make unclean or impure: as

a : to corrupt the purity or perfection of : debase <the countryside defiled by billboards>

b : to violate the chastity of : deflower

c : to make physically unclean especially with something unpleasant or contaminating <boots defiled with blood>

d : to violate the sanctity of : desecrate <defile a sanctuary>

e : sully, dishonor

— de·file·ment noun

— de·fil·er noun

Like all my multiple choice answers, I choose “C” as the correct definition of defile.

Now, on to something more interesting …

Yesterday Jack, Wynette, Daniel, Jennifer, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran returned home after a long absence. J & W from Arizona, where they attended the marriage of grandson Brian to the lovely Annie, and the Walters Clan from Las Vegas where they spent a week of well earned vacation time. Everyone had a good time and brought home lots of photos to prove it. We just haven’t seen all of them, yet.

Also, Jeff brought Gilligan and Baylee up for a visit which is always fun. The latter two spent their time running all over the house making all kinds of happy kid noises which is something we enjoy.

All of the kids are gearing up for school which starts next week. Gilligan will be a First Grader, and Baylee will be going to pre-school. Cedric will be a Junior, Lydia a Sophomore, and Jeran a Freshman. I think Gilligan’s & Baylee’s niece, Danyell, will also be a First Grader. So, we’ll have six Grand, and Great Grand Kids attending St. Helens public schools this year. Can’t wait to see how it all goes.

Manual Labor & Uranus

Posted on August 24, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Hi! It’s been a while and I’m sure everyone has been wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing. About all I can tell you, without crossing that fine line separating from … well … make-believe, is that I woke up in my own bed this morning with no memory of what transpired since the 18th. Consequently, what you about to read, should you choose to do so, is probably a complete fabrication.

Last Tuesday I spent part of the day recovering from a little computer work I did for Roberta, one of Wynette’s classmates from High School. I did that work on Monday and it’s something I haven’t done for a while so it made my brain tired.

During Tuesday afternoon I spent my time moving rocks and dirt from the side yard, by the garage, to various other places on the property. I know that’s all true because I can see where rocks and dirt are missing, and I can see where other places have more than they used to. The following days it is apparent that I continued this behavior, all the way through yesterday, except for the side trips we took to look at cars because Diane wants a new one. Not a NEW new one, but an OLD new one. Specifically, what she wants is a 2005 PT Cruiser GT convertible just like Nancy’s, but different. Diane wants a white one with a tan top. Like this …

If you see one for sale, wherever you are, please let whoever owns it that Diane wants it. Or, you can send her the contact info at d.j.cate@hotmail.com.

Besides all that work, and shopping for cars, we also had an opportunity to meet and get to know our new neighbors. They are: Scott, Whitney, Kye, Brooklyn, and Taylor (the dog). I’m sure I misspelled Kye’s name, but she’s a cute 3-years-old. Her younger sister is 1.5, or so. A very nice young family happy to be out of Hillsboro. Good neighbors. So far.

I think there was a moment of lucidity in the last few days where I called Scappoose Sand & Gravel and ordered a few yards of driveway gravel which explains the reason I moved so much dirt and gravel from the space that’s destined to received the new, clean gravel. It’s my understanding that it will be delivered on September 2nd. We’ll see how that works out. Once it’s delivered I’ll have to expend some manual labor to spread it out. Either that, or rent a really big power tool.

Outside the lucid moments I’m sure I made a couple of trips to Uranus. Something like that. I’m guessing, but it’s based on the fact that I mysteriously have a brand new roll of toilet paper in my bathroom where the last I knew it was half gone. So, it’s for sure got something to do with an anus of some sort. Probably mine. I’m not sure. I also have an injury on my chin that was, I sense, caused by an unprovoked attack by a piece of fencing I moved. There’s also a rhododendron injury beneath my left breast area that is pretty sore. I know it’s from a rhododendron because I’ve had them before. There’s no logical reason for me to suspect the fence for my chin injury but whenever I look at it I’m forced to cringe. So, it’s got to be guilty.

Today was a normal Sunday in many ways. Specifically, we got up and went to church. Then, instead of dropping by the Kozy Korner for lunch, Diane drove us to the Sizzler in Longview, Washington. She apparently read my mind because I’ve been hankering for a piece of dead cow and Sizzler is the best place to get some of that for a decent price. Diane’s Mom, Jean, had the salad bar, Diane had the chicken Malibu, and I had the 6 oz steak, all you can eat shrimp, and the salad bar. I was also hankering for some dead shrimp, so it worked out great. When it was all said and done, I’d consumed the steady, 45 shrimp, 3 pieces of dead chicken, a baked potato, and a soup bowl of ice cream. When eating at any establishment that allows you to serve your own ice cream, always use the soup bowls instead of those tiny little cups they provide. They have handles and they hold more ice cream.

Now it’s almost evening and I’m stuck in my recliner where I intend to stay until it’s time for bed. That will be in about 4 hours. We’ll be watching re-runs of “Big Bang Theory” until then. We’re halfway through season 3.

Merc Returns Safely From Camp Tadmor!

Posted on August 18, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Merc, his camp name, aka Cedric, was retrieved from Camp Tadmor yesterday afternoon after spending two months living in the wild eating bugs and wild berries, and feral rats as a member of a group of super heroes who monitor camping activities of hundreds of younger, severely advanced members of homo erectus from all over the world. He slept on the ground, without benefit of blanket or pillow, and has permanent dents in his sides and back that look a lot like pine cones, small rocks, large bugs, mice, birds, and other debris that typically litter the forest floor of this camp located a bit SE of Lebanon, Oregon. There’s talk about having these impressions tattooed to ensure he retains the memory on the off-chance they fade over time.

Diane, her Mom, Jean, and I traversed the harrowing I-5 corridor from Portland, artfully dodging drivers from neighboring states, who are apparently allowed to disregard some pretty basic driving laws, to retrieve Merc from the tenacious clutches of his fellow campers and counselors so he could be returned to civilization to prepare for his Junior year of High School.

On the trip down, the Buick’s A/C decided to go on the fritz making the vehicle interior a bit uncomfortable in the near-90 degree heat, but we persevered and arrived safely. When we arrived we visited with some adults who are part of the camp’s permanent crew, one of which was Ruby who is about 1. Very cute. With dimples. She looked at me in a ho-hum manner but lit right up with a big smile when Diane sauntered over. We suspect it was because of her natural affinity to like anyone who looks like a Grandma.

We didn’t have to wait long for the tour bus to arrive, bringing the campers back from their 2-day trip to Sisters, Oregon where they were encouraged to frolic in a river. Each person was given a bar of soap prior to the raft trip which they used to scrub away two months of grime they had accumulated as there are no showers at the camp and they aren’t allowed to contaminate the local streams in an effort to remain shiny.

As they exited the bus, it was readily evident that each of them had experienced a profound event, made life-long friendships, and were a bit sad to be leaving. But, leave they must. First, however, it was apparently mandatory that all of the girls who attended had to hug Merc. They lined up in two rows and waited their turn for a short time, then they all flocked to him leaving us only a small glimpse of the baseball had he was wearing. We had to pry the last three girls off him so we could get him to the Buick and begin the trip home. One of the girls broke down and sobbed. It was very touching, but Merc’s family was waiting for his return back in St. Helens and we had to go. He understood the need, as did the sobbing girl.

The trip home, for Merc, was filled with a constant stream of text messages with those he had just left, as well as all his family at home. His phone was DOA at the beginning of the trip, but i just happened to have a charger which we hooked up so he could get busy with his texting.

I don’t think he quit smiling during the entire 2.5 hour trip home.

When we arrived, he was greeted in the driveway by his Mom, Jennifer, Dad, Daniel, Sister, Lydia, and brother, Jeran. We stood around visiting for a few minutes before he went into the house where he discovered that about 10 of his friends had gathered to welcome him home. It was a touching scene, replacing his recent sense of loss with one of incredible gain.

It was a great day.

Sadly, I do not have any photos of either the departure or arrival home, but I do have one of Merc in a truck that a group of his fellow campers liberated it from a local farmer who inadvertently left it in his corn field from which the group was gathering food for one of their meals.

Cedric is wearing the blue shirt, just behind the cab of the pickup.

No doubt you have all guessed that the foregoing narrative, with the exception of the touchy-feely aspects of the camp departure, and home arrival, are pure gibberish. Lot’s of it is true, but most of it isn’t.

Camp Tadmor is a Christian camp where most of the activities I related are discouraged. It’s a great place, actually. It’s all about caring for one another and getting in touch with ones inner self. Cedric has returned to us with a far more confident outlook and a more firm direction on where his life will go. We’re proud of his efforts and of the fine young man he is.

After he shaves his face, he will be perfect.

Sunday in Nampa

Posted on June 8, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Today, our last full day here in Nampa, was all about family. Everyone except Tyler, that is. He wasn’t in town because when he learned we were going to be her, he left. That’s not true, of course. He didn’t know we were going to be here so I think he’s living on the assumption that it was just pure luck that he left before we arrived. That could be true.

First thing this morning we had a light breakfast here in the hotel, then we met the rest of the local family at the First Christian Church in town. We chose to attend the 0900 early service which meant we were not allowed to sleep in like normal. That was just fine. On arrival we met Jim & Donna’s friends that we remember from past visits, so it was like old home week, in a way.

The service was great and we enjoyed it a lot. Everyone was happy, the band was good, the Rev. Dr. J. Stephen Perotti gave a great sermon, and I got to hold Jim’s hand. The only down side was I didn’t get to meet Grace. I think Jim alerted her we were in town so she chose to stay home. Either that, or she went to the late service. Whatever the reason, I regret that missed opportunity. I was prepared to autograph her T-shirt, and everything.

After church we retired to J&D’s home where everyone, except me, made a crucial decision about where to eat lunch. The Blue Sky Cafe won. I wasn’t involved in the process because I seriously do not care where I eat. That drives Diane nuts because I won’t tell her. So, every time she asks, I tell her Burger King, or McDonald’s. We always eat at better places because Diane’s OK with those for an impromptu snack, but not for a real meal. Still, she asks me where we should go. Maybe I’ll fool her and suggest someplace really nice the next time she asks. I think I’ll tell her I want to go to Killion’s. The fact that it’s in Ontario won’t be a determining factor. Or, maybe Giovanni’s Shrimp Truck on Oahu. That looks good. North Shore, too.

Lunch at the Blue Sky was awesome. I had breakfast. We all totally enjoyed our meal and had the pea sure of sharing a large table right in the middle of the restaurant, where we had to be on our best behavior because everyone was watching us. They knew we were from out of town and were waiting for any little reason to run us out of town. That’s the way they are in Nampa. Honest. Most of the time. Well, maybe just some of the time. No, they’re never that way. We always feel welcome when we visit, no matter where we go in town. I can say that because when we visit we’re always escorted to various places around town. It’s either an escort, or a guard. Not sure which. Anyway, we enjoy our visits.

After lunch we once again retired to J&D’s home where we pondered all of the dessert choices available in this small farming community. One of the choices was a milkshake at McDonald’s, or maybe a candy bar from Wal*Mart, but we finally settled on a frozen yogurt joint in town. I can’t remember the name and can’t find it on the internet, but it was one of those Yo Something places. It was all good, very similar to the help yourself yogurt places in Scappoose and St. Helens.

Here’s what we looked like after eating about $40 worth of frozen yogurt.

Back row l to r: Maryssa, Daniel, Donna, Bob, and Steffani
Front row l to r: Wynette, Jack, Jim, Diane, and Me

Now it’s 2015 and we’re all back in our rooms for the night, planning to get a good night of sleep in preparation for our trip home tomorrow. Since all I have to do is dump one drawer of “stuff” back into my carry-on suitcase, it will be a simple task for me.

Now I’m going to cut my toenails and start studying for my angiogram test on Wednesday.

Budgets, How to Save $$, and Lent

Posted on March 26, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

I spent most of today fiddling with my budget spreadsheet, shifting things around so the numbers worked … you know, kinda like statistics. After a while, it all started to click into place which concerns me a bit because I’m a terrible accountant type person. So, the proof of whether or not it’s going to work will be determined when we run our of money on our vacation.

On the upside of the money issue, I got a call today from Hudson Garbage to ask me if I knew I had a large credit balance on my account. I didn’t know that. The lady told me it was in excess of $500 which took me a bit by surprised. Learning this, you may wonder why I’m the one paying the bills, right? Well, turns out the $45 bill I’ve been paying every month, for a long time, only has to be paid every other month, on the odd ones. Plus, the bill is $52 and change, not $45. The lady asked if I wanted to just apply it to the next year’s worth of service. I told her no, just send it back so I can factor it into my budget as newly found money. The question I should have asked is “why did it take so long for you to discover this?” That’s a moot point at this time.

So, for those of you who wish to stash away a few bucks, just double pay one of your bills and let it ride until they figure it out. The danger is, of course, they may never find out, or may to just choose to ignore the overage. It’s a crap shoot, perfect for the garbage company account.

Diane cut her lip today opening a zip lock bag. Now, I’ve injured myself in some pretty interesting ways over the years, but that’s a new one. I must take a step back and humbly bow to one who totally outdid me on creative ways to make yourself bleed. In her defense, she didn’t have to show me, but she did so it’s fair game.

At 1600 I had to get dressed for church to attend our Lenten service. I spent the day in my pajamas. While talking with the Comcast Lady, to arrange a cable install at the church, I mentioned that I was in my pajamas and she proclaimed that she, also, spends most of her work day in hers. We had quite a long, revealing conversation.

Now it’s late. We’re leaving for vacation right after my 1100 orthopedic appointment tomorrow, and I haven’t packed yet. Think that’s going to wait until tomorrow. I can’t tell you where we’re going, or how long we’ll be gone because Diane doesn’t want anyone to empty the place in our absence. Rest assured, however, they neighbors keep a close eye on strangers and they all have guns.

In parting, here’s a picture of the lunch Diane made me. It’s 5 pancakes, two eggs, and three pieces of bacon cut in half. I cut all the bacon in half so it would fit into one of those large ziploc bags.

Colonoscopys, This & Next, Food, Softball, and Soup

Posted on March 19, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Yesterday was another crappy day in paradise … it sprinkled a bit early on, then the sun came out and nearly blinded us when Diane drove me to my visit at the Gastroenterology Clinic in Portland. I was summoned, as a prelude to my need for a colonoscopy, in order to see how big my anus is. Apparently they have new HD cameras and needed to know if it was big enough to accommodate the new equipment. I found this interesting because things like that are generally getting smaller, not bigger. Fortunately, due to years of practice at ‘being’ an anus, it was determined that mine could, indeed, receive the probe. I heard someone say they thought they might even be able to insert two probes and take a 3D shot of my innards.

None of that’s true, of course. Truth is, since I will be unconscious during this procedure, they could shove a small chair in there and I’d never know it but I’m pretty confident they won’t because I’m not gonna sign the waiver.

Apparently the meeting went well because I was escorted to the lady who makes the appointments and they had one for next Monday, so I took it. The next available appointment was in May and I didn’t want to wait that long. I brought Diane in to ensure I’d made the correct choice and she assured me I had. So, the appointment Lady gave me a stack of instructions on what I had to do to prepare for this incredible experience. It starts next Friday and involves drinking gallons of Gatorade, water, and a couple of innocent looking pills. I’ve done this before so know what it’s all about. For those of you who haven’t had a colonoscopy, I’ll leave it at that in order to not spoil the ending for you. I will say, however, you will lose a bit of weight. Not much, and maybe only temporarily, perhaps, but you’ll lose it.

Sunday is my day for liquids only which makes enjoying Lydia’s 15th birthday celebration problematic, but I’ll make up for it on Monday. Maybe.

While writing about “next” Sunday, and “this” Friday, I’m compelled to share my belief about all of that, and why I think everyone else in the world is wrong about how those words are used in conjunction with identifying days of the week.

For example, if Diane were to tell me that I needed to do some “next Friday,” I would do it “this Friday” because, in this context, this=next to me. I mean, next Friday means the very next one I encounter. The word “this” shouldn’t even be allowed in the same sentence with days of the week.

Being slightly educated, however, I know that when Diane says “next Friday,” she really means the Friday “next week,” not the next one in sequence. In her parlance, that would be “this Friday.” Additionally, “a week from next Friday,” since today is Wednesday, actually means the third Friday from the day after tomorrow. Had the speaker meant that, however, they would have phrased it as “a week from Friday.” In this case, the “this” is silent.

All of this interpolation about which day is really being referenced makes my head hurt a little, so I’ve simplified the process by asking the speaker to clarify themselves. Normally I get an incredulous look that means, “surely you must be kidding?” I’m surely not. I need to know if “next” Friday is really the next one, or is it the Friday after next?

Conversations like this quickly deteriorate to the point where Diane explains that I’m a little bit mentally unstable and it’s not a good idea to continue the discussion. So, it ends. I admit that I’m totally aware of what the speaker means, but the play on words disturbs me and I find it necessary to do my part to educate the masses on how properly use the language. Jack and I practice this all the time, when we’re in close proximity, by doing what he calls “Correct Speak.” It’s all about taking everything literally, which is really simple for us.

I suppose there’s a lot of history involved with mixing ‘this’ and ‘next’ with days of the week, but I’m not going to bother doing any reasearch on it. Whatever it may be isn’t something I’ll agree with so I’ll just stick to my guns and do it the correct way, at least to me.

On the way home from the hospital, we stopped by Curtis Trailers and picked one out for future use. They had 2014 models, but we’ll need a 2016 version. That’s when we decided to buy one. We’ll wait.

Then we hightailed it to St. Helens to watch Lydia’s first high school softball game. She’s on the JV team so they played on the Campbell Park fields not far from our home. Diane dropped me off then went home to check on the dogs.

It was an exciting game that our girls, the Lady Lions, lost 9-7. Lydia played 3rd base and made a number of outs. She was the 2nd batter in the lineup and the coach had her bunt every time she was up. She moved runners around, but never got on base. Hopefully the next game coach will let her hit away. She can do that. Next game is next Friday, or ‘this’ Friday if you’re one of ‘those’ folks.

That ends yesterday.

Today I made phone calls to clarify ‘things’, made a trip to Comcast to change our programming package, a trip to CRPUD (Columbia River People’s Utility District) to get our billing on a program for equal monthly payments, and a visit to the local Chevrolet dealer to visit with my friend Steve.

When I got home, I discovered that Diane had been busy cooking, and treated me to another one of her wonderful concoctions. It was a stunning tuna, cheese, peas, and onion casserole. Just great! I love pretty much anything with noodles in it. Considering it had melted cheese in it, I asked Diane if, maybe, we could shape some of it into squares, let them cool down, and make sandwiches out of them, but she didn’t think it would work. Since she was the cook, I’ll leave it at that. I’m still curious, though. Bet it’d work. A tuna casserole sandwich …

After that, Diane and I sat face to face for a couple of hours but never once saw each other’s face. We’ve rearranged the computer room, pushing our desks together, so we’re no longer back to back. My 27″ iMac blocks pretty much everything in front of me so I’d have to stand up, or slide way right, to look Diane in the eye. She’d have to slide way left.

This evening we attended another Wednesday Lenten service preceded by soup and bread. Sandy made some excellent potato, ham, and cheese soup.

I’ve just used up my quota of words, so need to quit.

Arizona Shrugged

Posted on February 27, 2014 by Jerrie Cate

Yesterday I received a comment to one of my posts from a group of people who collectively call themselves “Spiritbath“. The post that got my attention was this one about a 12-year-old artist. I haven’t looked at any of the other posts, yet, but the gist of their entries are, oddly, spiritual in nature. Their posts are positive. They are uplifting. I think you will enjoy reading what they have to say.

Now you can either stop and go there, or stick around and see what’s going on in my world. I’ll tell you up front that what I’m going to enter here is far less interesting than Spiritbath. I’m guessing, of course, because I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen here.

Throughout the day I’ve heard news reports about things I thought would be interesting to share thinking, “I’ve got to remember that to share,” but I forget. Then, when I’m compelled to sit down at my computer and do this.

So there, I’ve said it. I don’t do this because I “want” to, it’s because I’m “compelled” to do it. I’m “forced”. So, here I sit.

I was cruising around in a web site the other day that sold T-shirts with tricky sayings on them. A lot of them caught my eye but I can’t afford all of them. But, I’m going to adding to my collection as soon as I get my allowance.

Here’s a few of them …

“In my day we had 9 planets!”
Two electrons talking to each other. One says “I lost an electron.” The other responds, “Are you positive?”
“Either you like bacon, or you’re wrong”
“Home is where the wi-fi connects automatically”
“There’s a fine line between Numerator and Denominator”
“I’m not crazy – my Mother had me tested”

I could go on, but I won’t. Diane buys stuff like that for me frequently and I just wear it so I’ve kinda got a reputation amongst our friends for both doing what my wife tells me to do, without back talk, as well as wearing some pretty neat laundry. The only shirts hanging in my closet are those kinds of T-shirts. I guess it’s a theme, now.

So, I’m not going to wear anything but T-shirts from now on. That means, of course, I’ll not be allowed to leave the house ever again. Or sit on the couch without a towel under me.

Today the Governor of Arizona vetoed a proposed law that would allow businesses to use religious beliefs as a reason for denying service to customers. I’m curious about that entire mess because it’s always been my understanding that businesses can deny service to anyone for no reason at all. I’ve seen signs in all my life stating exactly that … “We reserve the right to deny service to anyone”, no reason given.

As far as I know, this ‘problem’ is the fallout from an event in Portland, Oregon where a baker refused to make a wedding cake for a gay couple. He cited religious reasons for not wanting to do it. It became a really big deal.

Most of the people I know had mixed feelings about the entire affair.

Some thought it was the baker’s right to deny the request, but perhaps not for religious reasons. He should have just said he didn’t want to do it.

Other folks wondered why the gay couple made such a big deal out of the baker’s refusal to make the cake. Why would they, for any reason, want the baker to make their cake after being told he didn’t want to make it? There are lots of bakers in town. I suppose it was all about the principle involved.

Then, about the baker, it was just a cake. Make the cake. Take the money. Let it go. What’s the big deal. So it’s got two brides, or two grooms on top. Get over it.

It’s. A. Cake.

Then some clever Arizona law-maker, a term I use loosely here, decides it would be a good law if any business could deny service to anyone based on religious beliefs. I can only guess that whoever submitted this brilliant bit of legislature isn’t getting enough attention, or that Arizona doesn’t have enough valid issues to deal with right now.

So, a little bit of unsolicited advice for everyone … if you run a business I’m betting that religious beliefs are not mentioned one time in your Statement of Purpose.

If you don’t want to sell your product to just anyone who pops through your door, post a note. Folks will think you apparently have enough money already and are just taking up store space just for fun until it’s time to retire.

If you are a customer who is denied service, in any kind of business, go somewhere else. I suspect your friends will too.

I know. That’s very simplistic, and I suspect there are a lot of other underlying issues associated with this newsworthy opportunity, but it all boils down to one baker who denied service because he doesn’t believe in gay marriages. From there it exploded into a huge problem that isn’t, I think, really a problem. In my opinion, t’s just a handy forum where loud people with an agenda see an opportunity to be heard on topics that won’t likely solve the obesity problem caused by fast food.

Oh, wait! There’re people using that as a forum, too. They’ve even sued fast food franchises for making them obese.

Perhaps Arizona should pass a law that only skinny people can eat at fast food restaurants. They could create a whole new industry for some guy in a barn who makes scales that will trigger the door locks only if a potential customer is proportional, height & weight. Those are rough numbers, of course. I can just see someone walking up to the door at Big Ed’s Giant Weiner Emporium, stepping on the scale, and the entire window next to the door lights up with the customer’s weight and height. If the ratio is correct, the door opens. If not, that’s another customer lost.

If a skinny person is deemed to be too skinny, their milk shakes could be made with Muscle Milk.

Not likely to happen, in a sane world, but who knows? Things get crazier all the time.