Oregon Coast

Greetings from God’s country … He may visit your place, but this is where He vacations. Just to prove it, here are a bunch f pictures, most taken today as we drove south n Highway 101 to Yachats, Oregon. Yachats, by the way is pronounced Ya-hots. I know, it screws with my head, too, but that’s the way it is.

The lighthouse picture is Yaquina Head, just a few miles north of Newport where we are currently living until Saturday. The other odd beach picture is of Oregon’s, and perhaps the entire West Coast’s, most famous piece of debris from the Japanese tsunami. It’s a cement floating dock that’s about 60 feet long, 20 wide, and 12 tall. Not a minor piece of beach debris at all. Perhaps those of you who don’t live in this neck of the woods have seen it on the news. Perhaps not. It washed up on Agate Beach a month or so ago.

Most of the beach pictures were taken at Cape Perpetua. Lots of volcanic rock, very reminiscent of beaches on the Kona side of Hawaii. Quite beautiful.

The bridge is the one that spans the entrance to Yaquina Bay at Newport.

So, enjoy. I’m tired and quitting for today. Diane said she walked 11 miles today because she took twice as many steps. We did walk a lot. Our escorts were Les and Sophie, a couple of our Classic Winnebago Club friends.

20120627-221819.jpg

20120627-214221.jpg

20120627-213241.jpg

20120627-213057.jpg

20120627-212928.jpg

20120627-212114.jpg

20120627-211912.jpg

20120627-211730.jpg

20120627-213653.jpg

Morning

It’s quiet in the house as I tippity type, as quietly as I can, because I don’t want to awake Diane or Lydia. The latter is here because the rest of her family attended a BBQ in Portland but she chose to stay behind and attend softball pratice. That, effectively, made her homeless for the night so we picked her up on our way home from our BBQ in Warren.

Our BBQ was at “The Twins” house on our way home from my appointment at the VA Hospital on “Pill Hill” in Portland. I go there once a month for physical therapy to ratchet my right hip into a position where it doesn’t hurt all the time. It was a 1500 (3pm) appointment meaning we had the honor of participating in Portland’s abbreviated rush hour. It was the short version because we were on the West side of the Willamette River where the freeways don’t run. On a Friday afternoon all of those are parking lots for a couple of hours, but the West side is a high speed run home out Highway 30 to St. Helens after exiting Portland’s core.

As I said, we were at “The Twins” home for our BBQ. They kind of ramrod all the meetings we have for our high school class reunions. This year will be our 50th reunion. It’s interesting that everyone in our graduating class know exactly who “The Twins” are, even though there were 5 sets of twins who walked down that aisle so long ago. That’s because we all know the special story of their lives that others may one day “hear”.

The BBQ was at 1700 (5pm) yesterday afternoon and was attended by Vern, Sam, Eva, Evelyn, Jim, Delores, Larry, Vonnie, Josette, Judy, Howard, Me, Diane, Laura, Anselmo, Shiela, Wayne, and Della. There may have been more, but those are who I can visualize sitting around the table talking. I was surrounded by retired teachers, practicing doctors, lawyers, retired managers, and such, many of whom I grew up with, and their spouses whom I grew close to because of these meetings. The food was good as was the conversation … it was like being in class again because I was sitting between Vern (a retired high school teacher & coach, and our class president) and Anselmo, a pediatrician. Vern threatened to send me to the principle’s office, and Anselmo egged me on. We had a great time, as we always do. Too soon it had to end because we had to get Lydia.

She was already home from practice and had left a sign on the door alerting me to that. She was ready to go so there was no delay.

Now it’s morning, and we’re preparing to head for Rainier for her games. The weather is just perfect … drizzling rain, not hard enough to call the game, but enough to ensure all the girls get filthy. It should be a hoot. There will be pictures.

Now Diane says I have to eat breakfast and get dressed. I have 15 minutes.

<><><><> there will be no softball pictures, the games were cancelled <><><><>

Now I can relax – so can Lydia. Instead of watching a softball game in the rain I get to participate in the St. Helens Kiwanis Parade in the rain. I’m thinking I might get to ride on one of the floats for veterans but I can’t decide which had to wear … American Legion, or VFW. Decisions, decisions

Poetry and Patriotic Blossoms

Up at 4 to eat, then nap,
gotta feed the dogs and cat.
Lay down for another snooze,
can not get enough of that.
Getting up again at 10,
get a little blogging in.
Gotta let the dogs back in.
Then it’s time for lunch, and then,
I wonder what I’m doing here,
typing drivel with a slur.
It’s odd that words can mean so much,
but lose their punch with just a blur
Fingers typing way too fast,
too fast to think what I should “say”,
So I stop to take a break,
some folks think I’m such a flake
And I should be …

OK – that’s enough of that! I’m not a poet, obviously, so I quit and went outside to clean up the hot tub so Diane can use it. I had to wait for the company to leave before doing it because they might have waned to use it. This is what I saw …

I know, it needs some paint to cover up whatever it was that got splattered around down there, but it’s clean. I vacuumed it then power washed it as well as the tub innards. Diane couldn’t see this from the upper deck … she saw this …

Needless to say, she wasn’t overly impressed and I have to agree, it’s not very pretty. I had to remove all of this “stuff” from the patio before I could clean it. By the time I was done I didn’t want to move it back, so that’s where it’s staying all night – maybe two nights – unless it rains. Then I’ll move it.

Here’s the entire view …

Once I got going with the camera, I couldn’t help but wander around the yard taking pictures of some of our flowers. Doing this, I discovered that we have some sort of patriotic flower … I’ve known it was there for a long time, but I never really looked closely at it before. Turns out it’s pretty unique in my experience … tell me what you think about this …

It’s not really a flower … it’s a bush with blooms all over it like this. This one is pale yellow, but there’s another bush with deeper color that I like, too …

I found this very interesting because I’ve never seen blooms with stars in them before.

Going down another road I have to show you the chaise lounge that I placed on top of the septic tank. Later in the summer I’ll be able to lay on this and eat blackberries from the vines that I’m training to form a cover over it for shade …

The grass was allowed to remain because it adds a country look. Anyone who visits, when the berries are ripe, will be more than welcome to partake of this lovely feature at our home. If you’d rather eat your berries from a vertical stance, there will be plenty of them around the fence line, and across the street from the house. I can’t kill them. They seem to love being ripped out of the ground then sprouting up again three times as bad just to spite me. I have to admit, though it’s a noxious weed, the berries make mighty fine pie and jam.

We missed seeing the Space Shuttle fly over this evening, so will be looking for it tomorrow. Now it’s time for bed.

You’re Really 15?

Cedric … it wasn’t very long ago when you were a tiny little fake human being. You were only 18 inches long and weighed less than a bag of sugar. My oh my, how you’ve grown.

Love from Grandpa

The Wedding

Today was the big day for Heather & Justin. It was also a sad day. Bittersweet for Ruth, for today would have been her and Lyle’s 40th wedding anniversary. But, I’m getting ahead of myself, because before all of that, we had to make the trip to Saratoga Springs.

We were up early, like 6:30 or so, I think. Not wanting to forget something potentially important, I put everything I owned into a small Target bag, got my camera, and climbed into the back of Ruth’s Toyota. Sarah drove because I only had a vague notion of where we were going. We followed Larry and Valerie in their Mustang convertible, and Carol and Martin in their new BMW. We were a small parade of Connecticut vehicles winding our way through Massachusetts and NW past Albany, New York to Saratoga Springs … I already said that, didn’t I?

The trip went fairly quickly for me because I read my book on the iPad the entire way except for a couple of times when I was asked what the next exit was and which way to turn. Sarah did that because I had the GPS running on the iPad just for backup and they wanted confirmation that Larry and Valerie were doing it right. Easy trip.

When we got to the last exit, the GPS took us the wrong direction so we were about a mile off on the location of the hotel. I reset the stupid thing and we found it no problem the 2nd time. It’s a Comfort Inn. We got here pretty early because we had all the flowers for the wedding, and Ruth needed to get her portable steamer here to undo the wrinkles in the lady’s dresses. Once we got our stuff into the room, about 11:00 am, all the women disappeared so I just sat in the lobby waiting to see what was going to happen. Turns out, there wasn’t a lot going on in the lobby, and it was time to be hungry so I went to a Five Guys with Martin and we got hamburgers which we brought back to eat in the lobby. We also got a grilled chicken thing for Sarah. She wanted something healthy. Probably because she’s a nurse.

Time passed, I ate a few cookies at the registration desk, then people started filtering in to the lobby. I went outside and talked to some of the younger guests, and wedding party members, and explained how bad it is for them to smoke, which they already knew, then went back to the lobby. I initially thought is was going to be a pretty boring wait to tell the truth, but that was OK. Then new faces started showing up. I struck up a conversation with an older lady, with a crutch, to get the story on all the tattoos she was displaying. I’ve learned that every tattoo has meaning for those who get them. That’s true, mostly. Some folks get tattoos and don’t know it until the next morning when they take a shower and discover the new, and sometimes inappropriate, graphics adorning their previously unadorned bodies. How fun would that be?

Anyway. I got to visit with people I didn’t know and had cookies. Sometimes it just doesn’t get any better than that. I did participate in the evolution to move some cars to the Knights of Columbus lodge, about eleventy miles away, so we wouldn’t have to car pool back to the hotel. That’s because all the wedding girls road from the hotel in a Lincoln Navigator limo. I followed them in the Toyota. All by myself. Alone.

Pictures in hotel lobby, heading for the limo …

Arianna

20120603-152517.jpg

Sarah with Arianna and Jeffrey David

20120603-152605.jpg

Heather – the bride

20120603-152916.jpg

Once we got to the lodge, things moved quickly. All the girls got inside and some guy, lined us all up in the lobby in the order we would enter. I was the only guy there who got to do it twice … once to deliver Ruth to her table, then again so Cheryl would have something to hang on to so she wouldn’t fall down in her new high heels. She held on real tight. I, of course, was dressed totally inappropriately because all the other guys were in suits, or a tuxes. Me? I wore jeans, my cowboy boots, my string tie, and a festive, light brown sport coat. It was the same outfit I wore on the plane to get here, and the same one I wore to the wake, and the funeral. Though it’s getting to be a bit gamey, no one seemed to mind. Cheryl even gave me my very own flower for my lapel. Nifty. It had a magnet to hold it in place, but I didn’t discover that until after the wedding when I was playing with it.

Once I delivered Cheryl to her table I sat down. Thankfully, Sarah was taking pictures with my camera so captured everyone entering the room. It was a gala affair and I was happy Sarah took the initiative to do that. Here’s what I looked like with Cheryl on my arm …

20120603-153131.jpg

It was a nice ceremony. Very simple and elegant, conducted by a gentleman with very long hair. Once the vows were exchanged, the party began. First, it was a buffet dinner with light, soft background music provided by a real DJ parked in the corner. After the wedding party went to get their food, it was a buffet, the DJ started calling table numbers. We were at table 6, however, and didn’t want to wait, so we crashed the line. It was warranted, however, because Ruth needed to eat … me too … it had been a while since either of us had eaten anything (lobby cookies excluded) and we were getting weak. No one seemed to mind. The DJ even quit calling numbers and just turned everyone loose. It was chaos as everyone raced to get in line before everything was gone.

The food was very good … Italian. I only ate one plate full and quit. Diane would be proud of me. Then I sat there and watched all the young people dance until they got all sweaty. They were having a real good time. I got all sweaty just watching them. I realize that can be “taken” many ways, depending on the way your mind bends. Anyway, watching wore me right out. Little Arianna and Jeffrey David, the bridesmaid’s, Laura’s, children, who were the ring bearer and flower girl, were running and sliding across the floor having a good time. It was fun to watch and, again, made me sweaty just thinking about all that energy being expended without any evidence. Arianna (4) started with a white floor length dress but polished a great deal of the floor when she discovered she could take off running then drop to her knees and slide to a stop. Jeffrey was doing his six-year-old version of break dancing. It was exhausting.

Finally it was time for the cake, which was made out of lemon, red velvet, and chocolate cupcakes. Very cool. The only time I’ve seen that done before is by Jennifer, my favorite daughter, when she makes birthday cakes for the kidlets. Really a nice way to do large cakes. I ate two lemon ones.

20120603-153626.jpg

Then the party started getting louder, and louder, interspersed with soft quiet music for slow dancing. During one of those moments, Cheryl came over and asked me to dance with her. We were the only ones on the floor for the entire song so it was pretty special for me. These kids (Larry, Carol, Cheryl, Susan, Heather, Laura, Sarah), and their husbands (Allen, Martin) and wife (Valerie), have all made me feel special the entire time I’ve been here. Kinda makes me want to plan another trip east in the not too distant future. I know Diane would love it.

Soon the music volume rose to the level determined by scientists to be that at which folks older than 58 were forced to leave the area. It’s like those high pitched devices used to keep rats out of your basement, or those whistles you put on your bumper so the deer know where to look before they get hit. So, we bid adieu to the bride and groom and headed back to the hotel. It was time. We were tired.

Here are a few random pictures. I don’t have any idea which ones they are because in the blog it just a bunch of HTML coding that I only kinda understand.

Dr. Allen Gouse, the Dad

20120603-152434.jpg

Sarah and Susan

20120603-152657.jpg

Bridesmaids

20120603-153008.jpg

Thanks to all who are following this journey. I appreciate your comments.

The Funeral

Today was an extremely long one. It’s now 9:34pm, and it started at 6am. I know, to most of you that’s really not a big deal. Perhaps not on a normal day, for a normal person. But, today wasn’t, and I’m not, so I’m told.

It was important for me to get up before 7am in order to be alert before Sarah got here to make pancakes for Ruth and me. Of course I told her it wasn’t necessary, but I really didn’t try very hard to dissuade her. Sarah, as some of you may know, is Larry’s daughter, therefore Ruth and Lyle’s granddaughter. She’s an emergency room nurse at the Hartford hospital where Lyle finally saw the light.

Sarah showed up right on time and went about making the pancakes as promised. She did, however, make me cook my own eggs, which was just fine with me. Actually, she would have cooked those, too, but I thought getting pancakes was great, and going for eggs, too, was pushing the limit a little.

After I started the eggs, Ruth decided she’d like some, too, but she wanted hers scrambled. So, I scrambled the eggs I was cooking and gave them to her. Since they were the last two in the refrigerator, upstairs, I had to trek to the basement where they keep all the replacement food. Then I cooked my eggs. As you know I usually take pictures of things I eat but this time I didn’t. I’m sorry.

It was a very good breakfast so Sarah got both Ruth and me off to a great start. And it was a good thing, too.

First up was returning to the funeral home where we once again assumed our seats while those who wished to participate in the procession to the church filed in and took a seat. Lyle was still there in the background quietly taking in all the goings on. As people arrived, they signed in. When everyone was there, the funeral crew started calling out names. As each one was called, they stopped and kneeled by Lyle, on the handy kneeling platform provided, paid their last respects to him, then exited to their vehicle which was already adorned with a little magnetic flag that was imprinted with “Funeral”. It was purple. I remember that.

Alas, the family was last to leave. Prior to departing, however, I stretched the boundaries of funeral protocol by taking a few dozen photos. I will save those for a more private viewing, because I took pictures of everything.

Finally we were released to enter our vehicle. We had Ruth’s Toyota Highlander, and we were vehicle number one. A Funeral Traffic Director lined up the vehicles in two rows at the parking lot exit and urged us to wait for the hearse to pass before we took off. We did, and the hearse, preceded by a van with a nifty blinking blue light on top, finally went around us and the procession was started. Larry was driving with Ruth up front, Valerie and me in the back.Valerie is Larry’s wife.

It doesn’t take very long to get places in Connecticut so it was a relatively short trip. The hearse, and the pace van, led us to the front of the church where we parked in the wrong lane, against the curb, on a narrow street. No one in the oncoming lanes blew their horns, or anything, so I guess they’re used to this around here.

We debarked our ride and waited in front of the church while the pall bearers helped Lyle out of the hearse and walked him up the stairs to the coffin holder on wheels. They rolled it into the church a little ways, Ruth and me right behind, then stopped until Father O’Grady came back to bless the casket. Then it was covered with a nice table cloth and pushed to the front of the church. Ruth and I had to hurry to keep up, but we made it.

The family filled the first two or three pews on the right side of the church, then the ceremony began. I had an aisle seat, right behind Ruth, next to Sarah, and two other granddaughters, Laura, Heather.

First, Susan, one of Lyle’s and Ruth’s granddaughters, sang. Did I tell you that she sings like an angel? Well, she does. I would have taped it but wasn’t allowed to bring my camera into the church. That’s not true. I just gave it a little thought and decided it wouldn’t be appropriate, so left it in the car under my hat. Susan sang many songs during the service and it was absolutely beautiful.

All the way to the church I went over and over what I intended to say, trying to commit it to memory, and thought I had a pretty good handle on it. I was prepared. I was ready. Then, too soon, Father O’Grady said my name and I totally forgot all of it. On the way to the pulpit I regained a little of my memory, and was given a little more time to think when Susan came over from her place, to give me a huge hug. Then I began … here’s what I was going to say …


Lyle was 19 when I was born, and well on his way in life. Consequently, my childhood memories of him are sparse. I learned about Lyle through pictures, stories, and infrequent visits to Oregon throughout the years. One childhood picture continues to capture my attention – it’s of Lyle in his cracker jack Navy uniform, holding me as a newborn in 1944.

We were always aware of what was going on with Lyle through letters and cards. That method of communications, however, doesn’t convey the true depth of ones impact on the community and the family surrounding him.

After I joined the Navy I found myself more often in a position to either visit him in California, or at his home here. And, I got to know more about him, learning to love him as a brother instead of a random visitor.

He was unselfishly devoted to his family with Ruth which is obvious to all who knew him. In return, they were devoted to him. Respected him. Adored him. He was living a dream with Ruth, Larry, Cheryl, Carol, and Todd.

He was a pillar in the community and we are all proud of his accomplishments. We loved him even though he never tired of telling us Oregonians what a “real” hoagie, or a “real” pizza was.

When Lyle turned 70 years old we started a tradition of traveling to each brother as they, in turn, turned 70. Lyle and Ruth traveled west for Jim in 2006, and again for Jack in 2008. Sadly, my 70th celebration will be one brother short. I understand, and know that he will be there in spirit as an honored guest.

A few days ago I found myself alone, and I sat in the quiet house, in Lyle’s place at the table. Letting my mind wander a bit, which isn’t surprising to most who know me, I could easily envision Lyle puttering around in the kitchen, or calling to me from another room, to relate something of importance. It was comforting, and I knew he was with me.

He’s with me now, as he always will be. I’ll miss not being able to hug him, shake his hand, or simply just watch him sleep on the couch.

But, I have my memories of those events and can make them very real simply by closing my eyes. I can only hope that I leave half as many happy and loving people as Lyle did in the swirling wake of his life

As for the events of the last five weeks, In Lyle’s and Ruth’s words, “this too shall pass.”

I don’t really recall what I actually said, but many parts of the above were included. I did remember to speak slow, as Jack suggested at our last funeral, and it seemed to work well after I got the mike pointed in the proper direction. When I was done, I introduced Larry who had written many things about why he loved Lyle. It was very moving, and I’m happy he went 2nd because I could never have equalled him.

Then Susan sang another song and it was amazing not only because of her voice, but because the bulk of her family were sitting in the pews crying while she stood strong throughout. She held herself together to the end and we were all proud of her strength.

Lyle was then wheeled from the church for the final time, followed by Ruth and me, and the rest of the family. I haven’t yet mentioned that I felt overly honored to have been given the honor of leading everyone with Ruth but, then, it may have just been an age thing. Still, I was humbled.

After sliding Lyle into the hearse, the pall bearers melted into the crowd and we entered our vehicle for the trip to the cemetery. Again, it wasn’t a long trip, just a couple of miles maybe.

When we got there, the pilot van drove all the way past the cemetery to the last entrance which caused Larry and Ruth to question the logic since Lyle’s plot was straight down from the first entry road. This led to a brief discussion that concluded with the belief it was done in order to allow the fifty or so vehicles behind us to line up within the confines of the cemetery roads, and not be strung out down the street. When the hearse stopped well short of the anticipated location, things got interesting. Larry rolled down his window when Michael, the funeral guy, approached our vehicle and reported that Lyle’s vault had been delivered, and placed into the wrong plot. But, the chairs were all lined up, everyone was exiting their vehicles so it was agreed that Father O’Grady would just do the final portion of the service right there, at someone else’s grave site. There was no hurry, because we understood the new occupant wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Saturday.

Lyle was removed from the hearse and carted down to the wrong grave and the service proceeded. I didn’t sit, though I could have. Instead, I wandered around the crowd taking pictures. It was great, and we all agreed that this was just Lyle’s way of having the last laugh. Father O’Grady, however, felt it was just Lyle’s way of getting a plot without having to pay for it.

We left and drove to the La Notta restaurant in East Windsor where Lyle and Ruth took Diane and me for dinner the evening we drove our marathon around the NE states in 2010. Again, I took lots of pictures of everyone eating really good food. The younger kids had a great time running around on the dance floor, dodging people who were getting food from the buffet line which was parked in the middle of it.

Then, it was done. It was finally over, and everyone started leaving. One of Ruth’s brothers, Alan I believe, had been talking to me for a while, then said you need to come out and see my ride. I did and discovered he was driving a 1982 Porsche Targa. Nifty little rig. We chatted a little longer, then he stretched its legs leaving the parking lot to show me what it’s like to be 18 again.

We went back to the house for a while, then Susan, Jay, Sarah, and Laura left, leaving us with Martin and Carol. We visited for a while, then they, too, departed. By this time it was almost time for supper, so we decided to taste test some of the dishes that had been delivered over the past week.

A couple of them got tossed, then we discovered a meat pie that looked possible, so I stuck it in the oven. About then, Ruth’s neighbor came a knocking, and visited for a really long time. I sat there and listened to them laugh and reminisce about growing up in the Windsor area. It was like having someone read a book to me. About half way through the visit I turned the oven off, figuring the meat pie was about as hot as it needed to be. And, I was correct.

After the neighbor departed, Larry and Valerie showed up and we all took a stab at the meat pie. It was interesting, but not something anyone would want to eat a lot of. About the food … though I know it’s not true, I speculated that those who delivered it used recipes they’ve had for a long time but were afraid to try, or they have these recipes they save exclusively for making dishes which they deliver to folks in mourning. I believe it could be a way to speed up the healing process because it makes one want to opt for better fare. Having said that, I must admit that all of the desserts delivered were exceptionally tasty. I know that for a fact.

After we all had a couple bites of meat pie, we looked at each other, dropped our forks, and headed out the door for Chili’s. It was a very good end to the day.

Oh, ya, we went back to the cemetery, too, to make sure Lyle was in his proper place. He was and I can prove it because I took pictures.

Now, to put a few things in perspective for you. Following is a picture of Sarah, Laura, Ruth, Alicia, Heather, and Susan. That’s the order they’re standing in. On Saturday we’re going to Saratoga Springs, NY to attend Heather’s and Justin’s wedding. We’ll be staying over Saturday night, returning Sunday. As luck would have it, Ruth and I are sharing a room so I’m pretty excited about all the rumors we can start with this trip.

20120531-214749.jpg

The Wake

I’ve never been to a wake before so today was a real eye opener for me. Sure, I’ve viewed deceased family members, and others, but I’ve never experienced an event like this. Ruth told me she insisted on the wake because it’s a good way to get closure. I have to admit that I was extremely skeptical with Lyle laying right there where he could hear every word. I half expected him to raise up and ask everyone to keep the noise down because he was trying to sleep. But he didn’t. He didn’t even flinch.

The wake was scheduled for four hours. For those of you who may never have experienced a wake, it’s a period of time used to punish close family members by making them stand in a line, for the entire period, while pretty much everyone in the entire town files by to pay their respects. Really, the entire town. There were at least half a bazillion of them. Honest. I didn’t know there were than many people in Windsor Locks. Michael, the funeral director said it was “a good turn out,” which reminded me that folks from Suffield were there, and a state representative showed, up, too. That explained it.

Since I was part of the family, Ruth put me at the head of the receiving line so she could introduce me to everyone. At first I didn’t think that was right, but I was, after all, there for her. So, I quit my belly aching and stood my watch. I shook hands with everyone, hugged those I remembered from our 2010 trip, and grew accustomed to everyone extolling the saintly status of my brother. Normally when I hear the same words repeated over, and over, I grow deaf to them, but that didn’t happen this afternoon. I always knew Lyle was a stand-up guy, someone to admire, and a good person to call friend. Listening to everyone repeat this to me over that four hour period made me realize that there were many sides of Lyle I didn’t know at all. That’s understandable, because these people were pretty much a daily part of his life while I, and Jim and Jack, though more closely bound by blood, we missed a lot because we didn’t have that personal connection.

Toward the end of the scheduled 4-hour period I realized that it was OK Lyle was laying there in his casket while everyone shared stories, passed their condolences, and reiterated what a great guy Lyle was. I became so comfortable with his silent presence that I almost waved at him a couple of times. But I didn’t. By that time I knew he wouldn’t wave back, and I understood the healing benefits of a wake. We were becoming desensitized to his presence, making it easier for all of us to take that next step forward. To let the din of daily life creep back into our sensory range knowing that all is well. All is as it should be. Now we all, even Lyle, can move on to the next phase of existence.

In summary, I was devastated when we first got there, not prepared for the emotional response that erupted when I first saw him laying there. It was like a time warp in my head because the last image I had of him was standing beside Ruth in the open door of their garage, waving goodbye when Diane and I headed home from our visit in 2010. Then, BOOM, there he was, prone and silent. Prone was familiar, silent not so much. By the end of the evening a billowing sense of calm pervaded the room, and everything seemed to be OK.

After that we all went back to Ruth’s, ate pizza, and continued with the stories until it was time for sleep. Tomorrow is the funeral and I’ve been blessed as one of the eulogy guys. That seems to be a developing theme for funerals and me lately.

Lyle Harrison Cate

Hello everyone. I want to thank those of your who held my brother Lyle in your hearts, however briefly. He succumbed yesterday to a very aggressive lymphoma B cancer about three days after it was diagnosed. He was in a great deal of pain and there wasn’t anything the doctors could do except make him comfortable. It was fortuitous that Lyle & Ruth’s granddaughter, Sarah, is an RN at the hospital where he was, and he had first class care. For that, we’re grateful. He will be missed. Especially all those emails he signed with “older and wiser big bro”.

As I write this I’m on Delta flight 1156, headed for Atlanta. From there I’ll continue on to Bradley Field in Hartford. I’m in the middle seat near the rear of the plane. To my left is Lionel who lives in Lake Oswego. His son is a redshirt freshman Oregon Duck, #33, outside linebacker. To my right is Don who lives in Firlock Park in St. Helens. Don works at Boise Cascade and knew Diane’s dad, Mel. He also knows Diane’s uncle Bill and aunt Carolyn. Small world.

So far all I’ve spilled is a glass of orange juice. Most of it went in my hat, and all over my tray. Sadly, doing this triggered a strong desire to verify the functionality of my urinary tract. I know it was working before we took off. But, I’ll need to check it again before i can safely take a nap, which I need.

The nap would be good because by the time Diane and I made these travel plans it was after midnight and we needed to be out of the house by 4:30 for my 6:20 flight. I did not sleep at all.

I hope everyone is well. Except for my inflated bladder and my sore hip I’m fine. Oh, my eyes burn, too.

Grant County Fair Grounds, Washington

I only have a short time to render a plea for assistance to help us escape from this place. We tried to get away this afternoon, but all we managed to do was get our holding tanks dumped before we were forced back to our designated spot inside the fairground permiter.

Five days ago we began this adventure when we motored to Troutdale and met up with three other vintage Winnebago/Itasca RV’s which range from 1973 to 1990. Ours, as you may recall, is a 1979. The trip began nicely with a mosey across I-84 where Terry led us to a nice secluded location where we ate a scrumptious PB&J lunch. This location had a peek at the windsurfers on the Columbia, but we hesitated to stay long because the wind was blowing so hard we feared for our safety.

After lunch Terry led us on a tortuous journey of about 7 hours to Kennewick, Washington where we holed up in the Elk’s parking lot. The temperature during this grueling drive was around 114 in the shade and we were melting since we do not have dash air in our rig. Once parked, we had a chance to set out in a shaded grassy area for a bit, letting the generator run so the roof A/C could cool down the interior of the RV. In doing this I realized that we could have been running it all day long during the heat of the day while bombing down the highway. While all the others went to the Kennewick Mall, and had dinner, Diane and I walked two blocks to McDonald’s and got chicken sandwiches which were very good. I had bacon on mine. When everyone returned, we visited a bit then retired to our respective vehicles.

The night was OK, and we were up early enough to get a breakfast sandwich and coffee from Mickie D’s, then we were off again for a short trip of about 89 miles to Moses Lake. No one encountered any difficulties and we made it safely, stopping at the first Dollar Tree we saw. Next to it was a DQ which was good for a chocolate malt for me and a caramel something or other for Diane. We parked in the shade, killing time, so we could arrive at the fairgrounds about the same time as Jeff, who was coming from the Seattle area.

As we traversed the last couple of miles through town to the fairgrounds, we found ourselves sandwiched between dozens of really huge Winnebagos, much newer, and far more expensive, than our little group of four. It was pretty intimidating.

Once we made it through security we were directed to our designated spots just inside the gate. As we were parking, Jeff arrived making us a stronger group of five. Still, we were isolated from all the expensive rigs which cost anywhere from $150K – $500K or more so, I believe, we wouldn’t scratch them.

The first day we had our own Mexican pot luck for dinner while the expensive RVers spied on us through their fancy blinds, eating surf & turf supplied from town. They do this because they don’t use their kitchens like we do. Our little group had a wonderful time until it was time for me to get the TV going so Diane could watch Dancing With The Stars, or America’s Got Talent – one of those. It took a while to get the antenna pointed right, and at the right altitude. The final solution was achieved by attaching the antenna to my camera tripod, and attaching that to the ladder on the roof. Tricky. A real redneck setup, but it worked.

We slept well that night. I think it was a Thursday.

Friday, John & Sue showed up with their 1970 unit making us a stronger group of six. We ate the remainder of our Thursday evening potluck for Friday lunch.

It was a hot day, but cooled off nicely when the breeze kicked up to around 87 mph. John was happy because he had a kite to fly and it worked well. Friday night, last night, we were fed more Mexican food, and were entertained by the Winatchee High School Mariachi Band. They, and their teacher, were just awesome. A great group of talented kids. It was a real treat.

Then we slept. Got up, got coffee, ate tacos for lunch, and tacos for dinner. It was brutal. Everywhere you looked it was Mexican food, Mexican food, Mexican food … Somewhere in there our group was forced to serve the food as people passed by with their plates. I was the left line “Meat Guy” … Jeff was the right line “Meat Guy”. We had a lot of fun and provided proper portions, ensuring there was enough for everyone, unlike the “Soup Guys” who ran out about halfway through the line. It was horrible. We thought there would be a terrible mob scene clamoring for their soup, but it didn’t happen. It turns out that by serving old people, those who didn’t get soup apparently weren’t aware that there was soup so it was a non-event.

Yesterday the hoyfaloye Winnebagoers came by to tour our pitiful little rigs and were really interested in how they’ve been fixed up, or not. Most of them used to have rigs like ours but have since moves up to the hugs ones with computers, and TVs. It was interesting to visit with them.

Today it was more of the same for lunch, but for dinner they lured us into the dining hall, conveniently located about 100 feet from where we were forced to park, with a BBQ pulled pork and chicken dinner. It was truly awesome, and we didn’t have to bring our own plates! It was all very delicious.

After dinner we were forced to sit there through various forms of entertainment, raffle drawings, and various give aways, during which our table of six RV’s won four of the door prizes. Getting to the end, the 50-50 drawing, took almost 2 hours. We were dying in there, but had to stick around to see if any of our group won. They didn’t. Finally we were released to go “home”.

After visiting in the cool night air, we retired to our respective units. John & Sue are leaving at 0600,
Jeff at 0800. We don’t know when we’ll be leaving yet because we haven’t received clearance from the organizers.

We plan to make our escape and make it at least to Yakima tomorrow, then head across Highway 12 to I-5. So, if you don’t hear from us for another couple days, send help. We’re probably stopped somewhere along that road where there’s no cell service.

Pray for us …

Softball & Whimzie

Greetings Earthlings – Today was hot after it got going. However, when I was meowed awak at 0528 it was a little chilly. So, I released the source of the noise, let the dogs run, then crashed on the couch. But, I made coffee before doing that – I think. I know I made the coffee. Maybe it was after my nap.

We had to pick Lydia up at noon and transport her to Clatskanie for her game, so work on Whimzie (the Winnebago) was curtailed at 1130. During that time I was able to remantle the door, and get it installed. Remantle, by the way is the opposite of dismantle. Just makes sense. It was tricky getting it back together because the receptacles for hinge screws on the door are threaded inserts. I was able to remove all but two of them (there are 12) so had to cut them off and, ultimately, remove the insterts. Doing this required that I find two nuts with the proper thread to replace them. I was amazed that I actually did that after digging around in a shoe box full of various sizes of screws, bolts, and things. As I said, “after” I dug around in the box I looked up and spied a little drawer containing just what I needed. I really don’t know why I keep that shoe box full of “stuff”. I think it has something to do with mental illness.

Anyway, we got a little bit done, then Diane made me take a shower and we went to get Lydia. After doing that we stopped by Burgerville, which is virtually across the street from Dan’s & Jennie’s house (they own Lydia), and got lunch. I had a Tillamook Cheeseburger basket with a large chocolate milkshake. Diane had the same with a Sprite. Lydia got the Pepper Bacon Cheeseburger basket.

For Lydia, the lunch choice turned out to be a mistake because she got a headache and kinda sick to her stomach. Complicating that was the fact that she forgot her cleats at home. Luckily, Jennie got off work early and was home so she showed up before the game started. There were some nerves going on so during the first game of their double header she only pitched a couple of innings because she was having a hard time. She went to 3rd base and did great for the rest of the game, but they lost that one 10-4, or something like that.

To start the second game, she remained at 3rd and continued to play really well while a couple of other girls pitched. Then she went back to pitching during the last inning and helped with the 12-7 win. It was fun. She got to slide in to home and everything. Here’s what it looked like from my point of view …

Scooped a hit and tossed out the runner at first.

Sliding in at home – safe … though she didn’t get any hits today, she walked a number of times and got to do this slide a few times. Took out the pitcher on this one …

Took out the catcher on this one …

Back in at pitcher, scopped up a hit and tossed the last out

One pitch I wished I had captured was of the catcher in the 2nd game. The batter hit a high pop up just behind the plate. Our catcher jumped up, flipped off her mask, and tripped, landing flat on her back behind home plate. The ball landed about an inch from her head. It was one of those mesmerizing moments when all you can think about is what’s happening, then it’s over. She was very lucky but it didn’t seem to phase her in the least.

After the games Diane and I headed home with a stop at Lowe’s. The intent was to get some Red Max floor wax which really puts a dazzeling finish on RVs. Alas, Lowe’s no longer sells it so we’ll have to find another source, or just drive a dull rig to Moses Lake.

Tomorrow we need to tape off and paint the stripes on the front. We’re both curious to see how that goes.

After the game