Quiet has returned to the house. It actually returned yesterday, but I didn’t tell anyone. It was a happy noise, though, so wasn’t unwelcome. But it’s also nice when the quiet descends in it’s place. At least for a little while.

All the happy noise was related to Lydia’s birthday. It was her choice to spend her 1st night as a full fledged 14-year-old in our basement with two friends, Bree & Marissa, and her 5-year-old cousin, Gilligan. Bailee could have stayed, too, but she wouldn’t eat her turkey sandwich and that turned into a very big deal. That, and she’s not potty trained, yet. She knows she can’t stay the night until that happens so I think she’s intentionally putting it off for fear that she’ll have to spend the night.

Gilligan, of course, was delighted to spend time with “her cousin”. The entire time she was here she never once called Lydia by name … it was “Birthday Girl,” every time. Funny child, wise beyond her years.

Yesterday morning she checked all the cereal boxes to see how much sugar they had and picked the one with the least. Interesting.

After the birthday party on Tuesday, Jennie took all the girls shopping at Target. This was a prearranged trip so Lydia could spend her money on clothes, and Bree could get some parts for her skate board. Upon their return Lydia gave us a fashion show and Bree wanted to borrow some wrenches so she could replace the bearings on her board.

By the time all the clothes were displayed it was well past Diane’s and my bedtime so we excused ourselves and headed over to the East Wing, away from the noise. Since the East Wing, where the bedrooms are, is just around the corner from the living room, we didn’t miss out on any of the continuing conversation and the skitter of little feet as they padded down the hall to the bathroom for the tenth time, in an effort to stay awake and make every second count. Yes, it was Gilligan all the way … she was the only one we could hear talking and there was no doubt whose little feet those were. They were all in the living room, by the way, because Diane was afraid the girls would get cold in the basement. They were all happy with that decision.

Yesterday was a beautiful day, almost 70. While the sun shine was going on Diane and I had a very nice lunch of biscuits and gravy, then took a 2 hour nap. When we woke up we decided to drive to Longview to get the shoe moulding we need to finish the bedroom baseboards. I spent the rest of the sunny time in the basement putting a coat of polyurethane on all the baseboard pieces then went outside to see how much of the back yard I could get mowed before the rain came.

Upon approaching the lawn mower it became evident that my first stop would be the burn pile to empty the bags. I didn’t empty them on Monday because I was in a hurry to get to my Lion meeting. So, they sat there decomposing for two days. When I dumped them the grass was smoking, literally, and was close to combustion from the heat. And it smelled really bad.

About the time I got the bags emptied the rain started. It was light at first, so I kept going. I was able to fill all three bags two more times before I decided it was time to call it a day. Had I skipped that nap earlier in the day I could have finished the entire yard. Maybe today will be nice again. If not, there’s always tomorrow. Or the next day.

It’s almost 9:30 and Diane’s about the head out to get her Mom and go to quilting at church. That means I have to make a decision about taking another nap, or going to the basement to put another coat of polyurethane on the baseboards. Decisions, decisions.

I better go to the basement.

Where do the days go? I don’t know why I said that because I actually know the answer … they all turn into ‘yesterdays’. Every last one of them.

I didn’t get to mow the yard again today. Didn’t get to mow it yesterday, either. Or the day before. It’s to that point in the year we hit just before spring every year where the sun jumps up, makes all the dafodils raise their heads to see what’s going on, makes the trees take on a green haze with the promise of leaves, encourages grass to grow like crazy, then runs and hides behind a seemingly never ending shroud of clouds. And the rain comes in buckets, drenching everything in sight. Then the wind comes up and a cold front drops in from the north, the freezing level drops to 500 feet at night for about a week, and it’s just miserable going outside. That sounds suspiciously like a complaint, I know, but it’s really only reporting the truth. The weather is a mess, the grass grows, but never really gets dry enough to mow until it’s a foot tall.

OK – it’s a complaint but I offer it mainly in the form of an observation and the knowledge that we, unlike other climes, can make it through most winters with no fear of the need to run out and purchase a snow shovel because we don’t know where the old one is.

Unlike previous years, our driveway isn’t flooded with the torrential rains, and it isn’t creeping into the garage, because I dug that ditch and installed a drain system. Not the best, but it works.

Today we surrendered our bedroom windows to the glass folks at Willamese to get new panes made. As you may recall, I managed to fracture all four of them during the arduous task of refinishing the frames. We get them back tomorrow. Now all I need to do it get all the baseboards finished … finished, as in varnished. Then we can do the floors. At this point, all we plan to do is apply paste wax and buff it to the point slipping and falling is guaranteed. Unless we cover it with area rugs. Which we will do.

I actually wrote all that yesterday but didn’t send it because i figured I should edit it a little. Today, however, I don’t feel that need so I’m just going to send it along.

Haven’t heard anything from Minnesota or Connecticut for a while, so hope everything is OK in those foreign countries. I suspect both areas are still reeling from the mess of snow they’ve had over the past couple of months.

I spent most of today sanding baseboard pieces. Wore me out. Now I’m going to quit.

Maith ar maidin to you all on this glorious day. That’s Gaelic, in case you were wondering. I suspect you can figure out what it means, but click the link to make sure I got it right. I can say stuff like that because it’s my understanding that part of me is Irish. Sadly, I don’t know what part. Most parts are German.

It’s right at 32 degrees here but I think it’s going to get up to about 60 before the day is done. But, rain is in the forecast so it probably won’t be a good day for outside activities. That means I won’t be able to mow the yard, which desparately needs it. It’s had a taste of the sun and is growing profusely, wanting more. If I don’t get to it in the next couple of days it’s going to be a job instead of fun like it normally is.

Diane’s up and looking chipper. Every day she’s a little bit better and we’re thankful for that. Shingles aren’t fun, for anyone.

Yesterday, after redoing the window frames with their new coats of polyurethane, I removed her failing computer and replaced it with her new Windows 8 touch screen. While watching her fiddle around with it I recalled the first time I tried to get her interested in working with a computer. At that time she was so not interested, and she got a little testy because she thought I was spending too much time on mine. Once she stepped over that line, however, and discovered the power at her fingertips, she was hooked for life. If I ever lose track of her, I just go to the Man Room and there she is. Looking at ‘stuff’, or hammering away on her keyboard in response to one of the 50-60 emails she gets every day.

Now the world has changed again for her with Windows 8. She’s taking it well.

The cat is on the deck, scratching the patio door glass to get in. What an annoying noise that is. But, it gets the results she seeks.

Now I have an hour to sit for a bit before we head off to church. Coffee Hour today is going to be a Baked Potato Bar so we won’t have to figure out anything for lunch. That’s good because I was afraid Diane was going to ask me what I wanted for lunch and I’d have to think of something to eat which is always difficult for me because I could get by on cheese and crackers for every meal, if necessary. She frowns on that choice as a meal.

So, now I’ll leave you with a slán Fond. Find something green to wear and have a great  day.

Beannacht do anois

Remember a few blogs ago, where I mentioned that Diane thought I was losing my mind because I couldn’t remember anything? Remember that? Well, I just remembered that, during this time, I remembed a critical lesson about how to deal with  blackberry bushes. But, first, I don’t understand why they are called ‘bushes’ because that doesn’t sound very descriptive to me. They are actually very sharp, clingy vines that can only be killed by radiation. They should be called blackberry clingy scratchers, or something like that.

Anyway, what I remembered, as I was ripping them out of the ground, and throwing vines everywhere, is that it’s not a good idea to wear shorts and short sleeve shirts. Boots are a good idea, too. Get anywhere near a blackberry vine and it’s gonna leave a mark. Honestly.

I checked on line to see if ‘blackberry bushes’ was indeed what they are called, although that’s what I’ve called them my entire life, and came up with a number of web sites that actually sell them, 6 for $30. Nice. And here I was ripping them out of the ground, willy nilly. You’d think I would feel bad about that, but I don’t because no matter how much of it you rip out, it will grow back. Guaranteed. Damn blackberry bushes. When sold on line they call them ‘blackberry plants’. I suspect our wild, free blackberries taste just as good as the $30 variety, but ours can’t compete with the Kiowa Blackberry for size. Those things are enormous.

I may have mentioned that our refurbishing project is now on room two – the master bedroom. All that’s left to be done is the baseboards, floors, and windows. I’ve got the windows in the basement where I removed the glass from all four panes. They came out in about 40 pieces so now I’ll have to take them to Scappoose to get glass. I don’t know what happened – only two of them were broken when I started removing the glazing then, all the sudden, all four of them were broken before I knew what happened. Now that the glass is out, it will be simple to refinish them. I’ve scraped most of the paint and varnish off (paint on the outside, varhish on the inside), so it won’t be long before I’ll need the glass. Baseboards are going to be interesting because I’ll get to use my new saw. I haven’t even plugged it in, yet.

Before I plug it in, I’ll have to set all the angles to ensure it cuts square at all angles. And it can cut a log of different angles. I know that’s true because I read the manual. Didn’t understand all of it, but I read it, just the same. OK. I read most of it and skimmed the rest, but there were a bunch of angles displayed in one of the diagrams. It has to be true.

I forgot to shave again this morning. That’s the 52 day in a row. That’s one thing Diane wishes I’d remember to do. I know that’s true, too, because she told me. But, she’s quit complaining how poky my whiskers are so she’s either getting used to them, or they are actually getting soft. I spend a lot of time combing my face, now. Feels good.

Guess I better quit. I decided at the start if it got down to combing my face I was out of interesting things to share.

Sheryl passed away yesterday. We were high school classmates and she is one of only three girls who ever asked me out on a date for something other than a Sadie Hawkins Day dance. It was a hay ride with a bunch of other kids, so maybe it wasn’t technically a date, but I’m going to count it as one. There were other dates after that but the hayride is stuck in long term memory.

We were both freshman and I was scared to death of girls. It’s surprising that I agreed to go. But I did, and had a great time. Years later, at one of our high school reunions, we talked about that hayride and I learned that she, too, was scared. We laughed and talked about the different paths our lives took through high school and beyond.

Sheryl had severe medical problems the last few years and it was hard to watch her decline, but always good to see her. We remained friends over the years and I’m happy for that.

Whenever I think of Sheryl, or hear her name, my mind takes me back to that hay wagon when we were both 14, and it was so good to be alive.

And I smile.

That’s the way I’ll remember Sheryl.

Diane’s microwave is pretty smart. I’ve been fascinated with it from the day we bought it when we moved into this house 7 years ago. In the last two years, since I finally retired, I’ve had opportunities to explore the various settings which cover pretty much any form of cooking one might want to do. Before I retired I really didn’t have time to figure it out so relied on Diane to figure out all the possibilities. Being a very clever person, and more of a techie than she’s comfortable to admit, she is well versed in it’s possibilities. Mainly, I use the settings that allow me to reheat ‘stuff’, like “one meal”, or “one cup of coffee”, things like that. Simple settings.

Sometimes I dare to just set it for a certain amount of time, like I’ve done for hotdogs since day one. Usually I just stuff the hotdog in the bun, set it for 25 seconds, and it comes out perfect. That length of time is perfect to heat up the hotdog without turning the bun into an overly chewy mess.

Diane doesn’t like her hotdog heated up in the bun. Instead, she does the hotdog first, then puts it in a bun, covers it with cheese, and sticks it back in the micro for 10-15 seconds. If that isn’t bad enough, when she takes it out she puts ketchup on it. That should be illegal. You should have to put mustard on all hotdogs. Ketchup is just wrong in so many ways. Ketchup is for steaks and shrimp.

I digress … sorry …

Today after church we took Diane’s mom, Jean, to Zhen’s, formerly the Lucky Inn, for one of their incredibly huge meals. Diane had a craving. Like normal, each plate is enough to feed three people. All of us ate sparingly, boxed the rest, then returned to our house to digest all of it and wait for the post-Chinese-food-hunger-pangs to set in. The ride home took us to downtown St. Helens, by the river where we discovered Lydia, and her friend Ravyn, calmly avoiding what they described as a “creepy guy” down by the gazeebo. Odd to find her this far from home. Lydia said they were waiting for another one of their friends, but he was late.

Once home, Diane and Mom watched the ‘Red Widow’ pilot which was saved to the DVR. I already watched it during one or more session of American Idol, or one of many different shows from HGTV which are also captured on the DVR.

Since it was a two-hour episode, the Chinese food had plenty of time to clear the upper reaches of our digestive tracts, making room for something new and tasty. I suggested hotdogs which was a unanimous choice. So, I removed a new package of Hebrew National hotdogs (7 to a pack) from the referigerator, and a new package of buns from the bread drawer (8 to a pack), and set about the task of figuring out how to heat them up.

At this point, I must point out that both Diane and I refer to the various settings on the micro as “buttons”, like those commonly found on a smart phone. They are all menu items in memory, but you have to “push” a button on the screen to activate it. We have popcorn buttons, the aforementioned coffee button, the meal button, the melt cheese button, etc. So, it may not be a surprise to you that, after deciding to see about cooking the hotdogs, I stumbled across a “two weenie” button.

To me, that was just phenominal! Diane’s microwave has a two weenie button! Who knew?

It took me some time to digest that discovery. I think she secretly knew about it but was keeping it secret from me. She denied it, however, when I accused her of doing that. Can’t say I blame her because I would have denied it, too. I mean, c’mon! A two weenie button. Who would’ve believed that? But, I never would have found if without her help. Oddly, it is under the “Meat” menu which I find odd because everyone knows hotdogs aren’t meat. They may look like meat, but they really aren’t.

Jennie, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran stopped by after we finished our weenies so Jen could get the booster seat to use for her niece, Lexie, whom she babysits. Jennie loves babies. Given half a chance, she would have had 15 kids. It’s all about the smell, I’m told. The clean baby smell, not the dirty one.

Moving on, spring is over until next week. After two days of glorious sunshine and dry weather the moisture has returned. To combat that I’ve made yesterday’s picture of Panzee my wall paper so that I, like Ruth, can see what better times will look like. I think spring will return in a week or so.

Panzee and Ozzie alerted to a strange noise a few minutes ago on the back porch. I got up to look and blinded a lone raccoon when I hit the floods. It was pilfering the outside cat dish which I had failed to bring inside. It ignored me until I rapped on the window, then it ran down the steps. I gave it a five second head start then let Panzee out. After I was sure the raccoon was safely over the fence, I let little yappy Ozzie joing the chase.

It was a delightful end to a day filled with exciting events and new discoveries.

… at least for a little while.

Yesterday I mowed our front yard again for two reasons – 1) just because I could, and 2) it grew an inch since I mowed it the last time. I also mowed the neighbor’s yard. It was a gorgeous day in the Great North West and good to be outside. Although the temp dipped to freezing at night, it popped right back up into the 60’s, perfect for shorts and a lawnmower.

Another reason I mowed was so I could take a picture for Ruth and give her a notion of what her yard will look like once her snow melts.

This is Panzee enjoying the short grass in our front yard … that’s Mt. Hood in the back.

After mowing the lawn I cleaned up and went next door to work on Muriel’s computer for the fourth time. Her only complaint is that she can’t send email, but she can receive it. Perplexing. I was there until almost 7 pm which is really 8 pm since we had to Spring Forward last night. The next time I go there I’m going to reformat her hard drive with prejudice, wiping out everything contained thereon, starting over from scratch. First, however, I must rescue her photos and address book.

I hear Diane stirring so it’s time for me to look busy.

… or should that be “scarfs”? Gee … I just looked it up and it can go either way. Interesting. I’ll stick with ‘scarves’ because ‘scarf’ has always been associated with food for me … like, “when he eats, he really scarfs it up.” Just saying.

Anyway, where I’m going with this is that, in addition to my many other household duties, I’ve been tasked with crocheting scarves for everyone in town. This is what they look like …

Quite festive and it absolutely kills my right shoulder when I make them. That, of course, isn’t a factor. Jennie thinks I should make a few dozen to sell at the Christmas sales this coming holiday season. Wow! I said ‘Christmas’ and it isn’t even St. Patties Day, yet.

Another issue with the scarfs is that they take up my valuable free nap time. As it is, I rarely get more than an hour worth of naps a day. The rest of the time I’m doing other important things that I’m not allowed to talk about. Actually, I can’t talk about those things because I generally can’t remember them. Oh wait! Lunch! I usually remember lunch.

First thing this morning I was forced to visit the dentist. No emergency. Just an appointment. I make them for as early in the day as possible in order to get them fresh, before they wear themselves out dealing with difficult patients all day. Today’s was at 8 am. The next appointment will be 7 am. Thankfully, the office is only about a mile away.

Today was Ozzie’s Poodle-do day. We checked him in at 1 pm and checked him out around 3 pm. I turned him over to the groomer then promptly forgot that I was supposed to buy a roll of stamps at the post office. Instead, I stopped at the car deleaship and stepped out to look at a couple of interesting vehicles which were about as far away from the main office as possible. Still, one of the salesmen, Skip, spied me and rushed to my assistance. It was raining, so I didn’t make him wait very long before telling him I didn’t know why I was there and that I should probably go home.

When I got home Diane was busy cooking all kinds of things for soup supper tonight. Like normal, my role in her cooking things is the ‘taster’. I have to do that to give her plausible deniability in the event something doesn’t turn out right. However, everything she cooks is just great. Today it was chicken soup to which we added half a box of 10-year-old butterfly pasta and it turned out wonderful. And, she made the most incredible brownies ever. I don’t normally eat brownies, but I ate these. She put walnuts in them because she knows I love walnuts. I think she loves me, even when she’s scolding me, and calling me by all three of my given names.

After the soup was done we took it, and the brownies, to the church and set it all up for the evening meal. Then we returned to St. Helens so we could go to the post office to get the stamps I forgot in the morning. On the way, the poodle-doer, Kay Kay, called to say Oz was ready to escape her clutches. So, we got the stamps, then the dog, and went home to rest an hour or so before having to return to church.

At 5 pm we again left the house, picked up Diane’s Mom, Jean, and headed to Warren for supper and our Lenten service. Once on Highway 30 we had to stop for a fire truck, then saw dozens of flashing lights in front of our beloved Safeway, where our daughter, Jennie, works. There were four ambulances and a variety of other emergency vehicles scakttered around the parking lot and crime scene tape extened into the parking area, encompassing both entrances. Our first thought was that someone went in there and shot the place up, so I immediately called Jennie. Thankfully she answered and told us it was her day off. She only lives about half a block from the store and didn’t know what was going on but thought it might just be one of the alarms went off.

After we got to church I listened to the police scanner app I have on my iPhone but didn’t hear anyone say anything about what was going on. Then Jennie called to say guns weren’t involved and she had talked with one of the managers who said 30 or so people were exposed to something in the deli area that made them sick. Stil inconclusive, but it was good to know she was OK, and that it wasn’t something life threatening.

Our pastor has been conducting Lenten services using Mayberry RFD TV shows to convey the lesson. So, we get to watch one of the shows every Wednesday evening. Tonight’s show was ‘The Loaded Goat’ which, oddly enough, is about responsibility and doing the right thing.

So, there you have it.

Today was special. Diane drove me to Portland so I could have lunch with the best looking group of people who ever worked at PGE. Actually, some of them still work there but I’m not going to tell who. OK – Cliff and I don’t work there any more. I don’t think Paula does, either.

We ate at Mandarin Cove which is just up 1st Street a few blocks from the building where I used to work. Thinking we were a bit late, Diane forced me to exit the vehicle in front of the restaurant then went to look for a place to park. I didn’t think she would be back for a while so prepared myself to test fate and order lunch for her.

When I got inside, I was directed to a table waaaay in the back, away from everyone else, as if they’d been warned I’d be there. Cliff was the only one there when I arrived so we had a moment to talk a bit before the real crowd arrived. This is the guy who invented TAL Team about 20 years ago in order to ensure all the technology, hardware and software, met levels of expectation before being used on the company’s network. I was blessed to have worked with that team for many years before I was forced to retire because of my advanced age, lack of knowledge, and inability to learn new ‘stuff’.

In short order, the remainder of the crew arrived. They are Terri, Becky, Paula, Jim, Debbi, and Nancy – all members of the Team at it’s most busy, but currently functioning at higher levels as members of other IT groups in the company. The fact that this group still gathers is significant because PGE typically scatters talent all over the company in an effort to keep them from talking to each other about what’s going on. In Jim’s case, however, they retained his talent as the sole remaining member of the TAL Team until he decided to retire. That’s why we were all at the Cove – to celebrate that momentous event in his life. He’s seen the light!

This group of people are the hardest working, most dedicated people I’ve ever had the priviledge of working with. Despite my advanced age, I was the ‘baby’ of the group having only 21 years at PGE. Jim would be next, I believe, but all the ladies present have between 30 and 40 years on the job. Amazing! Nancy will be the next to go, in May. Hopefully I was nice enough at today’s lunch that I’ll be invited back for her departure lunch.

The lunch was great, and I loved seeing everyone again. It’s only been two years for me, but it seems longer when I was so used to seeing all of them every day for so long. It’s nothing like being in the Navy where the co-workers change completely every two or three  years. We are all friends, which I find particularly astounding, because their knowledge level was far above mine. I believe they all tolerated me because it gave them a measuring stick of what not to be, and allowed them to practice their teaching skills long after thinking they were beyond that in their careers. They taught me more than I can remember and I appreciate all of them a great deal.

Before I forget, Diane showed up right after the large group, having found a parking place right out front. I was happy to see her, as I always am, and her stunning appearance whisked any thought of introducing her to everyone right out of my brain. She did know some of them, but not all. So, now for the introductions – around the round table it went like this, in a clockwise manner – Diane was to my left, then Jim, Terri, Paula, Becky, Cliff, Debbi, Nancy, then me. Sadly, I failed to take a picture. Maybe next time.

After leaving lunch, we drove to the Habitat For Humanity Restore store over by Mall 205 to see if we could find some interesting baseboard material. They had some that we purchased, I got some hinges and knobs, then we left because we had to get Cedric to his golf lessons.

Then, just when I thought I’d had the best day ever, Diane pulled in to the Sears store and let me buy a new saw. An electric one that plugs into the wall, and everything.

Nice!

Chang’s – what a great place to eat. I suspect the fastidious people of the world view it as a gathering place where diseases lurk, waiting to strike the unwary visitors. To me, it’s a gourmet delight. To Jerry #1 it’s a place to get half a meal and stuff the remainder in his pocket. I’ll explain that in a moment.

No, I’ll explain it now. Whenever Jerry #1 eats it’s a given that he will only eat half of whatever he’s served. And, he never drinks water. Ever! Most of us attribute his demure stature to this fact – he’s not well fed, and he’s severely dehydradrated causing his skin to pull his face back, making him look like Mr. Miagi … oh wait! He really does look like Mr. Miagi, but that’s mainly because he’s Japanese. I keep forgetting that. Dang! He also claims to be 5′ 1/2″ tall, too. Most of us disagree on that point. He’s at least 5′ 1″.

The “Three Jerry’s” group also includes a Tom, a Nelda, a Linda, a Coleen, a Vie, and a Diane. At yesterday’s gathering Linda and Diane were missing, both for gastrointestinal issues. So, they stayed home, investigating the toilet paper supply, hoping it wouldn’t run out.

It was a drastic mistake that led Jerry #1 down the path of enemas and other solutions for constipation that involved graphic detail of the results. I did learn something, however. A person can go for nine days without going. I don’t know if that’s a world record, or not, but it is for Jerry #1’s mother-in-law. I simply cannot imagine the agony she must have been in. That began the epic discussion about enemas.

I have to admit that I’ve had one of those, self-administered, in preparation for a sigmoidoscopy, and again for a colonoscopy. I actually kind of enjoyed the sigmoidoscopy because I got to watch a live feed on TV as the doctor and nurse stood behind me, gently feed a camera up my ass. It wasn’t really all that exciting, I guess, because it just looked like the inside of a new, stretched out dryer exhaust tube, without the lint. There was no lint because I had that self inflicted enema earlier.

Tom shared nurse stories about enemas that included a garden hose and a bucket of water. He did it, he said, to scare a patient which isn’t normally ethical for a nurse, but the patient was his father-in-law I think. The in-law was given a med to put him to sleep quickly and was told Tom would be back with his “tools” when the meds did their job. It took him an hour to go to sleep because he didn’t want Tom to return.

What I learned from all this talk about enemas is that it’s apparently OK to administer them to your in-laws. I think wives and neighbors are allowed to do that, too, if necessary.

Jerry #2, Nelda, and Vie were sitting at the other end of the table so we weren’t allowed to share in their whispered conversations, so my rendition of this gathering is limited. Once in a while, however, someone would get everyone’s attention and share something of importance, but I can’t remember them because I didn’t have my crayon and paper to take notes. Perhaps some of those who participated will feel inclined to fill in the gaps … I do know there were some jokes shared that I’ve never heard before … Tom?

The big announcement came from Jerry #1. He got everyone’s attentioin by standing up and saying, “I have an announcement.” That when we knew he had an announcement. “I’m a new father,” he stated, grinning from ear to ear. This got everyone’s attention because we all know that Jerry was widowed from the lovely Lynn two years ago and none of us was aware that he had a romantic interest in anyone else. Considering, too, that he’s no longer allowed to fornicate, because of his advanced age, it was unlikely that he was the father of a child. Yet, he announced that he was a new father.

After a short pause to allow this news to sink in, he further clarified that it was Lynn’s race horse, Rose, that recently had a colt. This made my mind swerve into an entirely new direction that mainly consisted of questions around the possibilities of a human fathering a baby horse. I had to shake my head to make that go away, then the reality hit me. Jerry’s mare had a colt fathered by a stud. Knowing that Jerry #1 really isn’t a stud, I figured it out.

The colt’s name is going to be “はやく Lynn はやく“, where はやく = hayaku, or hurry up. So, when she’s running down the stretch the announcer will be saying, “and here comes Hayaku Lynn Hayaku on the outside. Hayaku Lynn Hayaku by a nose,” etc. In two or three years we’ll all see what that sounds like at Portland Meadows.

As we left, Tom and I shared an intimate moment in the restroom, discussing things we couldn’t discuss in public. Mainly it was about why it was a good idea Jerry #1 didn’t want to use the facilities because the urinal was too high and there was no stool. That allowed him to leave right away with the other half of his meal wrapped in two rice paper enchalada wrappers which he stuffed into his shirt pocket.

Vie also left without a goodbye hug, but Jerry #3 and Nelda waited. Coleen had to wait, too, because she was Tom’s chauffeur. Nelda and #3 were headed over to the Helvatia area to look at a Segway someone had for sale. #3 said that they may as well have an even four Segways that don’t work instead of only three. Nelda had the address programmed into her enormous phone and the map showed her the blue line they needed to follow. I took her to the next level by randomly touching a spot on the phone that produced a soothing voice telling them to get started, and would talk them through the turns for the trip. Nelda was so excited!

Me? I went home to be with my lovely bride and to take Cedric to his golf practice. Then I sat on the couch for the remainder of the day. It was a good one.

Now I need to buy Diane a new computer because hers, in Diane’s terms, is “Tits up.”