4/13/13
Today we got up really early – me for the bathroom and Diane so she could move to the couch. We only have a queen bed so my ‘wiggling’ around is more pronounced, causing severe irritation that deters from the ability to obtain a decent nights sleep. I regret that aspect of getting older, though Diane would say I’ve always had this problem. I think the extra wiggly part of last night was the result of a glass of wine with which I took my nightly ration of Zolpidem. The wine was Barefoot Pink Moscato, Screwtop, Wednesday Last Week. It’s very good, and very easy to open.
When I returned from relieving myself, Diane got up and moved. She said that was about 0530. So, that’s officially when we first got up. I then slept until almost 0900, as did she. She may have slept a little longer, but I stood at her feet, staring into her face, projecting my desire that she wake up all by herself. It’s better if I don’t touch her to wake her up. I practice staring at her, commanding her to turn and look at me, all the time. She’s used to it now, though, and normally just tells me to quit staring at her … like she knew it was me all along. I suppose that’s logical since it’s normally just the two of us. But, she always acknowledges the stare. This morning, however, when she opened her eyes she jumped when she saw me, not knowing that I was the reason she woke up. I only had to stand there for about 30 minutes, too. I’m getting better all the time.

After a cup of coffee, and a yogurt, we walked up to the office where a staff member was giving information about what there is to do in the area. After that we returned to our assigned trailer and had a proper breakfast of Cheerios, toast and coffee. Then, with our new found knowledge of what’s going on locally, we headed south on Highway 1 at a leisurely pace, relying on memory about things to do because we left the information in our trailer.

First, Point Arena isn’t a large place. I believe there are 449 residents, all of whom either work at the trailer park here, or spend their time fishing down by the Coast Guard Bed & Breakfast by the pier where the albatross live.

For those of you who really, really like California Highway 1, I apologize. It truly is a beautiful drive when time isn’t a factor. We only drove as far south as Gualala. I saw a custom license plate with GWALALA so know that’s how it’s pronounced. Before that I was guessing. I’m guessing, still, that it’s pronounced in a manner that would make it fit right in the song “Deck The Halls” … you know, “fa la la la la, la la la la.” Or, “falalalal, lalalal,” if you prefer.

Gualala is a quaint little village. In the year 2000 the population was 1,912. Last year they did a recount, because of an influx of folks from Florida, and came up with 2,132. On average, there are 25 people per square mile. By comparison, Point Arena lost 25 people between the 2000 and 2010 census, down from 474. Diane concurs with me that those 25 people secured one square mile of property in Gualala and are part of that 2,132.

On the way to Gualala (kinda rolls off your tongue, now, doesn’t it?) we stopped at a craft fair at the Veteran’s Hall in Point Arena where we both bought stuff. Can’t share what because they are surprises for some folks. Friendly people and fun to talk with. One of the vendors was an eighth grader who was my vendor of choice. She was stuck at the end of a long table full of laser crafted, overpriced, wood boxes, and her little card table was almost totally blocked by a small shoji screen covered with dangly “stuff”.

From there we continued down a few streets and turned right on Port Avenue which ends at the Coast Guard Bed & Breakfast, and the fishing & boat launch pier. There isn’t a boat ramp like normal – it’s got a crane that picks up boats and drops them in the water. The wind was blowing so hard that we didn’t spend much time on the pier. Plus there were big birds flying around doing bomb runs on people in the parking lot. Fun to watch, but chilly.

Moving on down the road, we didn’t stop until we got to Gualala where we found a supermarket Diane wanted so we could get something for supper. I got a New York steak, but I think we’re going to have tuna salad instead. We’ll eat the steak tomorrow.

Attached to the supermarket is a Mexican Food & Pizza joint so we each had a piece of pepperoni pizza, which was really good. Then we walked across the parking lot to Jack’s Pharmacy And All Around Emporium. That’s not really the name. It’s just Jack’s Pharmacy. Inside, however, it’s a little bit of everything, even old motorcycles. It really did have a pharmacy, but it was closed. Outside the closed wire cage, near the Depends and Kotex isle, were sitting six guys with guitars pickin’ and singin’. Pickin’ good, singin’ bad, but they were having a lot of fun.

In this store Diane found a little chandelier type thing, but the lady wanted too much. So, the lady knocked $25 off which met with Diane’s approval. She took us to the cashier and told her we were paying cash, so it didn’t get rung up. Diane also bought some cards which were rung up. So, figuring this was definitely a tax type dodge, I told the First Lady that I worked for the IRS and needed to talk to her. She flexed a bit, said, and I quote, “shit, I’m really in trouble now…” Seeing the impact of this lie caused me to immediately let her know I was lying and that I wasn’t going to tell anyone. For my honesty, she breathed a sigh of relief and gave me a rice krispy square for free.

That made my day, which pleased Diane, so we mosied back to our assigned trailer.

One of the things we learned at the morning meeting is a film crew is lurking around the area shooting the movie “The Need For Speed”, I think. Apparently they used Lighthouse Road, outside our trailer park, a few days ago. A local paper reported that the chain link fence was removed from the Point Arena Lighthouse for the movie so it’s a good time to go take pictures. So, we’ll be doing that tomorrow, in the morning, after another nourishing breakfast of Cheerios, toast, and coffee.

Did I mention that it’s windy here?

This park is for the birds …

The beach near the Point Arena Pier.

We were up bright and early and on the road by 0900. That’s two days in a row which is a modern day record for us.

We got gas in Brookings, OR for $3.79/gal which was a good thing because the further south we went, the more expensive it got. The California border arrived at 10 to 10. That’s 0950 for some of you. Shortly thereafter, we arrived in Crescent City where gas was $4.28/gal.

Since leaving home our eyes have been assaulted with so many shades of green that it’s like driving through a kaleidoscope. Pretty amazing. A great deal of the trip was through some very impressive redwood trees. Majestic. The road was straight for a long distances so the view was like traveling down a topless tunnel where the trees came to a point in front and behind us.

At 1007, when the the speed limit jumped from 55 to 65, Diane’s got excited and took advantage of the +5 mph rule and bumped the rig to 70 mph. That’s when she’s at her best – speeding. So, when we turned off Highway 101 onto California Highway 1. My first mistake was to have chosen that route. My second mistake was telling her we could have gone a lot farther on Highway 101 before heading west.

California Highway 1 is one of the most crooked roads in the entire world. Seriously. And it’s longer than all the others. The first time we travelled that highway was many years ago and we vowed then to never, ever, take that wrong turn again. But, I allowed it to happen. Shame on me.

At one point I took a video which I intended to share with everyone to show how horrible it was. Trying to hold the camera (my iPad) almost made me car sick because she kind of overdid it for the benefit of the prospective viewers. I’ve never been car sick before.

At 1027 we encountered a construction with signs that alerted us to be on the alert for a flagger. Instead, here’s what we encountered instead of a flagger …

It appeared the highway was in danger of falling off into the ocean, which is about 300-400 feet straight down. Nice. So they gave the real flagger a break, to save his life, and made all of us driving stop and sit there for what seemed to be an extraordinarily long time. All that weight just sitting there, waiting to slip off into the ocean.

Once we reached the coast, and actually saw the water, Diane pulled over and actually decided to let me drive. What a treat. I didn’t make it 20 feet before she started telling me how to keep the car on the road. Thankfully, there wasn’t very much traffic so I lowered my seat, moved it forward as far as I could, let my mouth go a little slack, assumed a frightened look in my eyes and dropped the speed to 30 mph. I did this for every car we met. When she was finally able to communicate, she suggested that I put the seat back where it belonged and she’d leave me alone. So I did as did she. I think I won that round, but she took over driving tasks at Fort Bragg, about 1615. Once back on the road she admitted she had to drive because my driving scares her.

We arrived at our chosen accommodations about 1800. Like normal, I was allowed to go check us in, because she drove. I chose to leave our confirmation in the car, against Diane’s wishes. I left it because they never want those things, just a credit card.

At the front desk the first thing they wanted to see was the confirmation. Since I didn’t have it they asked for ID, which was in my wallet … in the glove box. So, I had to take the walk of shame back to the car, get the requested items, and tolerate a great deal of ridicule from the driver.

Now it’s getting late. I’ve had to publish this once already to get a photo installed, so some folks have already read it but they’ll have to read it again.

Oh, our accommodations are very nice. We have our very own little park model cabin with very nice furnishings, two TVs and a fake fireplace.

It’s overcast, the lawn needs to be mowed again, the heater on my side of the car is on all the time, gas is too expensive, we probably need oil, and we’re heading for Gold Beach, 311 miles away.

All things considered, it’s a really good day.

Just as I typed that my iPad keyboard did the strangest thing. It split in half and made the virtual keys small so someone with more dexterity than me could use their thumbs. Interesting. It took me 3.4 miles to figure out how to make it normal.now I can switch it back and forth at will. You just put two fingers in the middle of the keyboard and swipe them to the sides. Do the opposite to make it normal. Nifty.

We just passed Banks, on our way to Tillamook where the best cheddar cheese in the world is made. Dairy farmers in Tillamook have a special breed of cheddar cheese cows whose milk is yellow and takes very little churning to firm it up. It’s true. Look it up.

It’s a little later, now. We stopped at a trailhead that had access to the Wilson River bank, and toilets, so we stopped to admire the view, and use the facilities. Here’s what we saw …

Here’s what we looked like why we were looking …

I quit right after that so I could watch the beautiful Oregon Coast unfurl past us. There’s nothing like it. While I was away, we made it to Depoe Bay where we ate lunch at the Sea Hag. We eat there every time we’re in the area because it’s probably the best food on the coast. Crab Louie’s rule, and that’s what we shared. I also had a cup of awesome clam chowder. Diane ate about 4 bites of the louie and called it good. She also had two cups of hot tea. It’s a little chilly here, so that was a good thing.

… well, he isn’t really a teenager, yet. Not for another four days, but I guess it’s close enough to count. Especially since he’s already had his birthday party. Diane and I are still discussing the legalities of having a birthday party 4 days before the historically correct date.  There are, of course, valid reasons …

First – the precedent was set long ago as we rarely celebrate on the correct day. As many of you know, the older you get, the less important the day actually is. By that I mean, all you have to do is get close, and it counts.

Second – on the proper day, Diane and I will be somewhere on I-5, heading south. Again. Seems like we’re always heading south on I-5. That’s all Diane will tell me. She’s such a tease.

Oh! The new teenager, almost, is Jeran …

This is him with his double fudge chocolate ice cream cake that Diane made which almost resulted in a divorce because I didn’t choose my words carefully when commenting on its size before she was done.

Yes, I made another one of those rare mistakes by not engaging my brain before energizing my mouth. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

The party was at Dan & Jen’s place so we had to travel all the way across town to celebrate. I think they are about a mile away. Still, it’s across town. Jennie cooked Swedish Meatballs and mashed potatoes at Jeran’s request. A very good meal. We had a great time sitting around the table talking after everyone was finished. We gave opinions about which family member’s genes had the most influence on grown up appearance and demeanor, then we shared previously untold secrets about favorite childhood memories. That started out nicely but quickly degraded into situations where we shared stories of survival … as in, it’s a wonder we survived what our siblings did to us.

One of my favorites was by Cedric who related an event where he was pushing Lydia in a swing. She fell asleep, fell out, and did a faceplant in the dirt. She didn’t get hurt, so it’s ok to share that one.

The reason I’m getting this entry out so early today is that the dogs tricked me into thinking it was time to get up … at 0630! I wasn’t ready. So, now that I’ve had my breakfast, I’m going to go sit on the couch and take my morning nap to ensure I don’t make noise and wake Diane.

Today Jerry and Nelda went to the beach.

On the way, they stopped at our house so Jerry could make fun all the hard work I’ve been doing with my baseboards. As luck would have it, he didn’t make fun of it so there was no violence.

We had a two-hour notice that they were going to stop by which was more than enough time for us to clean the entire house, paint two rooms, and get my new saw out in the dining room where Nelda could ogle it. Sadly, the only thing that happened was the saw was moved to the dining room. Oddly enough, we were unaware that Nelda would be so enthralled with the saw. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever consider that a woman would get excited about one of my power tools. She’s envious, I’m sure.

How awesome is that?

I think that’s about as good as it gets today.

This afternoon, at 1400, Diane, her Mom, and I went to the Warren Community Fellowship church to witness their 2013 Easter cantata in which brother Jack starred, once again, as a Sanhedrin Man (priest 6) who campaigned for Jesus’ crucifixion. Why would he do that? Two years in a row? You would think he would opt for a part on the good side for a change. Regardless, the production was wonderful. It was a non-stop 1.5 hours of song and dialogue about the arrest, crucifixion, and resurrection. Unlike last year, however, this year it was about “The Choice” that Marcus, a Roman Centurion, had to make. You should have been there. Really, you should have. Everyone was invited. You have two more chances to see it – tomorrow, Easter Sunday, at 0800 and 1030.

The picture is of the priests in the temple with the money changers, just before Jesus showed up and tossed everything on the floor. Jack is the 2nd priest from the left. It bothers me that only five of the six priests are in the picture, and that they aren’t standing in numerical order.

Actually, the sixth priest is there, but he’s standing behind the guy in #4 position. Dang.

As amazing as the production was, Wynette, Jack’s first wife, had to work much harder than he did because she made all of the costumes all by herself, with the help of 3 other seamstresses. Considering there were 80 volunteers, 60 or so in the cast, costumes were central to the success of the play. Seeing Jack in makeup was pretty cool, too. Sadly, I didn’t get a closeup.

Wow! 80 volunteers! We don’t even have 80 members in our church. A good Sunday will reveal 20-30 who call Bethany ‘home’. Of those, maybe 12 are the ones who get all the work done. Sound familiar?

Tomorrow will mark the 4th day in a row that I’ve been forced to attend a church service. First it was Maundy Thursday, yesterday it was Good Friday, today it was The Cantata, tomorrow it’s Easter. Will it never end? That might sound a little odd coming from a church council president. Actually, many of you may find it odd that I’m actually the president. Still others may find it either amusing, or amazing, that I’m even allowed in a church. My pastor has been wondering about that since the time I told him I was rewriting the Bible. I covered pretty much everything in about six chapters.

I guess that’s about it for today.

Oh, wait. It was 75 degrees today. Nice.