Category Archives: Yard Work

Lumber & Soccer

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Today I was left all alone, by myself, while Diane went to Portland to play with Jennifer and Lydia. They didn’t actually play, per se, they shopped. For girls I suspect that counts as playing. I have it on good authority that they had a good time. I’m hope they still are because it’s 9:40 PM and they aren’t home yet. Perhaps they stopped at a beer joint on the way home for a sandwich or something.

My day started when my alarm went off at 0630 this morning. Yes, I actually set an alarm and it was absolutely horrible. But, I promised to help our Lions club put out flags to celebrate this holiday, so I did it. Once I was up it wasn’t so bad. After flags we always eat breakfast at Sunshine Pizza. I had a breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. Then I went home and had a good cup of coffee.

After changing into my work clothes I commenced the process of helping the remains of our pussy willow tree migrate from the upper yard to the lower yard where it would be easy to dismantle them further and let them enjoy the warmth of a nice cozy fire. Here’s what it looked like before all the branches were whacked off …

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… and this is how they all wound up after making their way down the hill …

IMG_0135The tree was 30-40 feet tall and just getting out of control. Plus, after all the little fuzzy things fall off the branches they are replaced with about a bazillion leaves that have to be sucked up with the lawn mower. It’s a chore. Now we’ll have a couple of years with no pussy willow leaves to be concerned about. Might take me that long to burn all the branches removed from the tree.

Our new neighbor, Scott, cut all the limbs off the tree because I told him he’d have to move if he didn’t. Since Whitney isn’t about to move any where she immediately sent Scott to the store to buy a new chain saw. Since Scott isn’t going anywhere without Whitney he did exactly what she told him to do. That new chain saw got a work out and it was gratifying that Scott, a Georgia Boy, was well versed in the ways of properly dropping timber where you want it to go. I thought only people in Oregon could do that. He did a terrific job and I believe I’m now in his debt. With luck, he’ll have to have something done that involves a computer, not a lot of manual labor. I can do that.

Tomorrow I must golf. Temps will be in the 60’s so it should be perfect. I should feel bad about planning that since the east coast is having one snow storm after another, but I’m really not. All those people over there that we know, and are related to, understand that they can come visit with us any time they want to. Seems like now would be the right time. But, no … instead they huddle in their homes or go to Las Vegas or Arizona. It’s probably no big deal to them since it’s actually a way of life for them. Still, they have a way to get some relief if they wish.

Diane arrived home, safe and sound, shortly before 10 pm so now I must wind down and prepare for slumber.

Hope everyone is well and adequately fed.

Oh! I forgot to mention that Lydia’s soccer team, HSC Crush, played on yesterday afternoon and won 6-0. Most of the action was at the other goal line so Lydia did a lot of this …

DSC_2861Fortunately, she remembered to bring her huge Mickey Mouse gloves so it was easier to shade her eyes from the sun while she watched the action at the other end of the field. Really, she stopped quite a few kicks on her goal. Not much gets by her.

Now I’m stopping.

Doug in a Ditch I Dug, & Diane

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Just when I thought everything was going perfectly, I discovered there was a leak in our water line between the new meter that was installed, and the house. I notified the water department asking them to please visit and convince me that installing the new meter wasn’t the reason for the leak. They come up and we had a nice conversation during which they proved to my satisfaction that there were no leaks at the meter. That was disappointing news because it meant I would have to dig around in the yard to find the problem area. A daunting task. I had visions of holes all over the place and the trouble I’d be in if that actually happened.

So, I decided to dig down to the input pipe next to the house hoping I wouldn’t have to dig up the year at all. Grabbing a shovel I got to work. The input into the house is through the basement foundation about 3 feet below ground level. To get there required that I hack my way through the root structure of some really old rhododendron bushes that I dismantled a couple of years ago. Finding the water line may result in the demise of one or more, but that’s OK. I never liked them anyway. Then again, I’ve also discovered that it’s really hard to kill one of those things so they may be just fine.

At the level predicted, I encountered the old water line that was installed, I’m sure, when the house was built in 1957, a good year for Chevys. The 58-year-old pipe I found was very rusty and appeared to be a serious candidate for springing a major leak. Fearing the worst, I sprang to my feet and rushed to ACE Hardware to get the parts I needed to correct this potentially expensive situation.

Upon my return I went to the basement to shut off the water to the house. Normally the whole house cutout valve is located outside the home, but not here. It’s located just above the basement work bench. Then I killed the water on the city side of the meter so I could disconnect the house side from the meter. By adding one crafty attachment to the house side, I was able to attach my new water line hose. At the house, I connected the other end of the hose to the outside spigot that’s conveniently located almost directly above the input water line. Going back to the house cut out valve that’s inside the house, you may wonder why I turned it off. Well, as it turns out, that cut out valve is located below the outside spigot so by connecting the new water line house to the spigot turned the spigot into the house supply point. Here’s what I wound up with.

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I figured my task was done. I bypassed the rusty old pipe, got water flowing into the house again, and when everything was turned off, the meter didn’t spin like it did before. Then I suddenly remember that I was married and that there was no way having the hose strung across was going to be a good thing. I called my lawyer and was able to negotiate a deal that would allow the hose to stay in place temporarily while I dug a proper ditch that would allow me to install a proper water line. The only driving factor for completion is the weather … considering the hose is above ground, freezing temperatures could prove to be problematic.

About this time my friend Doug called and offered to lend his considerable talents to help me resolve this problem. Actually, he called before and was the one who suggested the temporary hose solution. I cannot deny him that success because it was an awesome suggestion. So awesome, in fact, that it could easily be a permanent solution in a warmer climate.

This morning Doug arrived at 0900 to assist me with a proper ditch into which we can stuff a new direct line to the house. We began by laying out a huge tarp onto which we laid the sod we removed from the path we chose from the meter to the house. Then it was time to begin the ditch. Doug chose to work in the ditch I’d already dug next to the house, hence the title to this little ditty. I started digging deep at the meter, piling the excavated dirt onto the aforementioned tarp. As we worked in our respective ditches it occurred to me that we represented over 140 years of life experience in the course of our tasks. I pointed this out to Doug and we both concurred that it was time to take a break. It was time for lunch anyway, so we went in to eat soup with Diane.

The afternoon stretch, after lunch, found us moving a bit slower and taking breaks more often to chat. Soon we were chatting more than working so figured it was time to call it a day, which we did. We were dirty and our boots were caked with mud so it took a little bit of time for us to make ourselves presentable enough to administer a proper adios to each agreeing to reconvene another day that is yet to be determined. Doug commented to Diane that he was afraid I’d go to work on it without him and thereby take all the credit for the big finish. I wouldn’t do that. You know that, right?

After I scraped myself clean, then took a shower, putting the temporary waterline hose to the test, I relaxed for a bit and watched the New England Patriots beat the Baltimore Ravens. Then I made us BLTs for supper and we watched the Seattle Seahawks take out the Carolina Panthers. When that was over we switched channels to watch the Portland Blazers play the Orlando Magic. As I rattle this keyboard, there are 33.5 seconds remaining and the Blazers are up by 7 points. In order to maintain their winning ways when they are ahead after three-quarters, they must maintain until the bitter end. Now there are 9.8 seconds remaining and it’s 103-92 Blazers and that’s where it ended.

Now, about Diane. She’s been battling terminal bronchitis for two weeks now and it pains me that there’s nothing I can do for her. She’s on antibiotics and they are helping, but not quickly enough for either of us. She gets exhausted coughing and watching her do that just wears me out. Please pray for her recovery so I won’t get so tired.

Thanks

The Garage Door, My iPhone 6, My Glasses, & The Garbage

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Yesterday afternoon I only had two things to remember; put the garbage can, and the recycle can at the street. Technically, I suppose that’s only one thing to remember. Also, technically, neither of them are cans, but it doesn’t sound right if you call them ‘plastics’, ya know? So, they’re cans.

I knew right away I’d missed the garbage man when I frantically rolled the can to the street when I woke at 0710 because the neighbors garbage can lid was upside down, the garbage man’s way of saying, “I was here.” Still, I left it at the street with the plan of hauling it back to the house later in the day, between rain storms. I did get the recycle out on time, so that was good. Still, I got into a minor bit of trouble when I told Diane about my failure.

Technically it was the dogs fault because neither of them woke me at 0530 like normal. Had they done so, I’m sure I could have beat the garbage man to the street. I’ll have to talk with them about that and reinforce it with a piece of cheese.

There are a couple of other reasons I may have failed to remember those important chores that are worthy of mention. First, my iPhone 6 arrived yesterday and it was mandatory that I configure it and test all the functions I’ve been studying for the past 1.5 months. Second, my new glasses arrived from the VA facility that makes them, somewhere in Idaho. Boise, I think. There’s a little difference in the prescription so there was an adjustment period getting used to them. I hardly ran in to anything so it was a successful transition. The main problem is that they have transition lenses that require me to wobble my head around to focus on things because the magic little focus spots are a little off from my old ones.I got gold frames, which Diane doesn’t like on me, so I envision a trip to Costco in the near future to rectify that fashion failure on my part. I only chose them because I liked the nose cushion. It’s comfy.

My new iPhone arrived while I was working on the other garage door. We have two of them. Diane’s has an automatic opener and mine is manual. Everyone should be very proud of me for taking the phone to my desk where I left it, all wrapped up, then went back to work on the door. My task was to attach a new seal to the bottom of the door. It’s kind of a problem because I got the kind that has an extruded aluminum bracket into which one must slide the seal after the bracket is mounted to the bottom of the door. Sounds easy, right. Well, I’m here to tell you it’s far from that. I did Diane’s garage door on Saturday and it about crippled my right hand all over again. The problem is that the rubber part arrives flat and must be formed into a “U” as it’s slid into the bracket channels and this covers the screws quite nicely. Looks good. But, the door must be completely open so the bottom of the door is located at the curve where the door goes horizontal so the bottom is not blocked by the frame in which the door rollers roll. Got it? Even then I had to undo the bottom roller on one side in order to clear the roller frame thing. With a little WD-40 and lots of effort I managed to push, yes, push, the rubber seal across the entire 10 foot span of the door. It was brutal and my right hand wasn’t working very well when I finished, but I got it done, by golly!

So, yesterday I figured I’d make things easier by propping the door open, about chest high, then remove the bottom rollers from BOTH sides thereby allowing me to swing the bottom panel of the door into the garage where I could easily insert the rubber seal. I tied off the bottom rollers to heavy things I found on the garage floor to keep the door spring from coiling up and beating holes in the ceiling after being ripped from my grasp. On one side I used a trailer hitch and the other side had a propane tank attached.

Everything was going nicely until I took the last screw out of the second roller bracket. At that exact moment I realized the error of my thinking as the door pushed the wood clamp I’d used to hold the door up aside as if it wasn’t there and slammed with a resounding crash to the floor. I’m sure it shook houses on both sides of us. On the way down it hit my sprained left wrist which hurt a bit, but I wasn’t concerned about that right then. I was waiting for the pain to race up my left from my left foot that I thought might be trapped under the door, but it never happened. Looking down I was relieved to see that my foot was actually OK.

Right then Diane appeared in the door to the house and calmly asked if I was OK. Having already assessed myself for possible crippling injuries, I assured her that I actually was OK. Then, just to get it out of the way, I told her what had happened, she nodded knowingly, and retreated back into the house after suggesting that I call Jeff for help.

I eventually did call Jeff, after re-learning that a 10 foot wide wood garage door that isn’t hooked to its spring weighs about a ton and a half, far beyond my limited lifting abilities. Once Jeff got here we managed, after a bit of testing, to get the door open and propped up so we could insert the rubber seal and put it all back together. However, noticing a small dent in one of the channels, into which the rubber gasket would slide, closer inspection revealed that nothing was going to slide through it. Ever. The door landed on some “things” that slammed those grooves shut tight in a number of places to the point where I knew the only way to make it neat was to get a new rubber gasket bracket. If I’d been thinking properly I would have reattached the bottom rollers, that are attached to the big spring, but I wasn’t so we didn’t. Instead, we lowered the door to the floor, gently, where it will reside until the new brackets arrive from wherever they’re made.

Last night Diane went to play bunco with her friends so I was left along with strict instructions to not do anything that involved lifting heavy things, or plugging anything into a wall socket. That pretty much limited me to my new iPhone 6 which I opened and got it all set up for use. I worked on the puzzle we have living on a table, too. The pieces are very light so there was no danger of violating the lifting restriction.

Now it’s Tuesday and I’m home alone again because Diane is working today. She didn’t leave me any instructions so I’m a little bit concerned about how I should conduct myself until her return. I’ll figure something out. It’d not raining very hard so maybe I’ll just go out and mow the yard.

Hope you all are doing well.

Supervision, Kids, Trucks, & Football

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Yesterday Diane abandoned me, escaping to the wild somewhere southeast of Portland proper, to participate in a women’s retreat with Jennifer and a bunch of other women. To ensure I was adequately supervised in her absence, she and Jennifer arranged for Jeran to spend last night with me to get me through that first night alone. Only one more to go.

It’s good to have Jeran here because we get along extremely well. With no women around, we can leave the toilet seat up all the time, don’t have to close the bathroom door if we don’t want to, and don’t have to change our underwear unless one of us has an accident. Regarding the latter, I’m more prone to that than Jeran is.

Last night for supper Jeran ate two pieces of leftover pizza as well as one chicken wing from a Costco baked chicken purchased Friday afternoon. I only at chicken. I was going to have baked beans with it but they had fuzzy spots amidst the beans so figured it wasn’t a good idea.

We both slept great last night even though we went to bed late. Somehow I got tangled up into watching a Harry Potter marathon and we watched two of the movies back-to-back. Well, I watched the second one, at least. I think the two movies lasted about 7 hours straight which would have rendered me mostly blind had I watched them both.

This morning the dogs allowed me to sleep until about 0715, a new record for 2014, then I lounged peacefully on the sofa until Jeran appeared around 0930. He fixed himself a cereal breakfast and I made coffee. Since Diane isn’t here I can drink the entire pot all by myself. Probably not a good idea, but I could if I wanted. I won’t, though. Instead I’ll drink half and safe the remainder for tomorrow morning. That way I’ll have to use the coffee grinder once. It’s really noisy.

After breakfast, Jeran sat on the sofa to read one of the Harry Potter novels. It’s HUGE! and he’s about halfway through it. Since he was sitting on Diane’s side of the sofa, Ozzie felt that it was OK to join him and snuggled at his feet. This is totally out of character for the little black dog. He even let Jeran pet him without ripping his arm off, his previous form of affection. It’s evident to all who know him that Ozzie has become more socially acceptable over the past couple of weeks since he got his teeth cleaned. We don’t know if the two events are connected but both of them have provided benefits to all of us.

Shortly after Jeran got comfortable with his book, Jeff called to ask what kind of donuts we liked. Raised, glazed, of course, for both Jeran and me. Shortly thereafter, Jeff appeared with Gilligan and Baylee and we had donuts for an after breakfast snack. Lots of times donuts, by themselves, are considered an adequate breakfast, so it was a real treat. We had a good visit, then Jeff had to get the rest of the donuts home before they got hard. It was a good, and tasty, visit.

Now we’re just lounging around. I’m thinking about what I should be doing today, but with no adult supervision I’m finding it difficult to focus on just one project. All I can do is sit in my chair and try to keep my head from twitching as my many unfinished tasks flit around in my brain, each one vying for top billing. Foremost, for sure, is replacement of the fence I ripped down. It’s calling to me, but not loud enough to disturb me. There’s also the chair kit I need to construct, but I don’t have any wood glue. Getting it would require a trip to ACE but I’m still in my jammies and would have to get dressed for that task. There’re others, I know, but I’m not currently inclined to expend the required amount of brain cells necessary to remember them.

o, here I sit, watching Camping World’s Fred’s 250 from the Talladega Superspeedway, and unranked West Virginia beat #4 Baylor at football, with the sound off. I left the sound off so it wouldn’t disturb Jeran’s library experience on the sofa.

I’m watching the Talladega race because it’s a pickup race and I figured it would be a good way to decide what kind of pickup we should get. What I did was check on line to see what the lineup was and learned that Chevy’s outnumber all other entrants by far. Second is Toyota then there’s Ford. Plus, they use a Chevy Silverado as the pace truck. Therefore, it’s a simple decision to chose Chevy as the truck of choice. It was made even easier because we’d already made that decision. It’s a 2015 goal of ours.

Wow! All of that just wore me out. Guess it’s time for a nap.

Random News From St. Helens

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Sometime during the night, a couple of weeks ago, someone invaded our street and filled a number of large pot holes near the N. Vernonia Road intersection with fresh asphalt. No one at our end of the street knows who did it and some residents are fearful this intruder may work his, or her, way up the street removing indents that have become a customary part of our drive home. Removing the need to dodge holes will take away the highlite of their day.

Weather in the Northwest part of St. Helens has turned soggy. The first few days it was a welcome relief from the incessant sunshine. The downside of this sudden shift from hot to chilly and wet resulted in the dreaded humidity similar to that found in Virginia this time of year. It’s brutal and soaks ones clothes with prodigious amounts of bodily fluids making them extremely difficult to remove in a hurry. This is a problem for older humans and generally ends in frustration and warm wet pants.

The rock wall, constructed by this abodes previous owner, that separates our property from the neighbors, is in a pile this morning. That’s because I knocked it down yesterday, deeming it a hazard to the your people now living next door. Now it must be replaced with something a little sturdier as the neighbors also have a new puppy named Trigger that is destined to grow into a very large dog. At this time, however, he cowers from 6 lb Ozzie who herded Trigger into a small basket full of sidewalk chalk on our back porch. No doubt he’ll remember this insult and seek resolution in the future.

Yesterday afternoon the new neighbor, Whitney, came to the house with her laptop seeking assistance to transfer her sacred files from the laptop to an external drive. The transfer was made and training was imparted to allow the owner the option of performing this feat in the comfort of her own home. During the process she was introduced to Diane’s favorite wine, muscato, which tastes a lot like really good cool aid.

JUST IN — from one of our nearby relatives, Jennifer, who reported that St. Helens High School is being evacuated and all the students are being sent to the school stadium where they were instructed to sit in alphabetical order with their first period class. Though nerve-wracking, it appears to us that a drill is being conducted in the same way we used to do it on ships at sea when one person is pulled aside, and sequestered, while teachers and administration staff attempt to determine who it is. Generally this drill is conducted at sea when someone falls over board and it is important to know who it is. Hopefully no one at the school has been injured. We just learned that the students are being bussed to a nearby village and whatever the threat is, it is apparently a real issue. Still sounds like authorities are looking for someone.

UPDATE – according to KOIN Channel 6 news, authorities suspect there are explosives in the school. Not good.

For Sale …

On the lighter side, I am in custody of some raffle tickets being sold by American Legion Post 42. The winner get an AR-15 sports rifle. Second and Third place winners will receive a monetary prize. The drawing will be on November 11th at 11:11 a.m. at the Veteran’s Memorial in McCormick Park, St. Helens. Tickets cost $10 each with a maximum of 500 being sold. if you want one, let me know.

I also have a 1968 Chevrolet C-20, fleetside, long bed, 2-wheel drive pickup for sale. It is powered by a 1973 Corvette 454 BBC bored over to 462 that has an RV cam installed and is capable of towing a fairly large house. Asking $2500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

There is also a Class A 1979 Winnebago Brave for sale at this location. It’s road ready and needs only a bit of attention to replace a cabinet above the cab area up front. It’s a steal at $1500 OBO. If you’re interested, let me know.

Now I must quit and ponder what’s going on at the school with our grandchildren …

Manual Labor & Uranus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean’s Birthday, Rocks, & Golf

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Today Eleanor Jean, Diane’s Mom, reluctantly celebrated her 87th birthday. I say “reluctantly” because she doesn’t find it necessary to celebrate “just another day.” We do, however, so took her out to dinner at Dockside in St. Helens. It’s interesting that the Dockside is an Italian food restaurant, not a seafood joint. And, it’s right on the Columbia River near where the best Salmon in the world give up their annual upstream battle through the thousands of fish hooks. You’d think they’d have salmon, wouldn’t you? They may, sometimes, but the fare is mainly steak and pasta with some token shrimp and chicken parts thrown in for added flavor.

At dinner were Daniel, Jeran, Diane, Lydia, Grams (Jean), Me, and Jennifer. Daniel is a staunch vegan so had a fancy salad; Jeran had ravioli’ Diane and Jean had Lasagna; Jennifer had fettucine alfredo; I and Lydia had carbonara. Carbonara is my absolute favorite Italian dish. Lydia, I learned, knows how to make it, but she’s never offered to come over and cook some for me.

It was a good end to a long day and we all enjoyed the food and the time we had together, visiting. Gathering for these occasions is important to us because it helps us rekindle the family spirit.

Unlike yesterday, and the day before, where I shoveled and moved a couple tons of rocks, today was spent in the church parking lot surrounded by many things we no longer wanted with a sincere hope that someone else would find a need to relieve us of ownership. It was a Parking Lot Sale to help raise funds for the church in an effort to keep the lights on, and a phone with a dial tone. Not many church folks participated in selling things, but lots of folks took the time to stop by for a peek at all the wondrous “stuff”. We were only actively open for 4 hours, 5 counting the early bird yard salers who can’t tell time. The tough part was unloading everything and stacking them neatly on the really heavy church tables I was forced to removed from the basement. After yesterday’s activity with a pick and shovel, moving the tables was brutal. I had help, but it was still brutal. Consequently, my left arm is only useable with a great deal of pain from the middle of my bicep to my wrist. Odd, I know, but that’s just the way it is. I’m not worried because I know it will go away.

Until tomorrow, when we go back for another 5 hours, then have to replace all the tables back in the basement. It will actually be easier to put them back because the stairs are carpeted allowing the tables to slide down quite nicely. Getting them to the stairs is the hard part.

I get a reprieve between 1000 and 1300 when I’ll go help some fellow Lions reattach newly cleaned flags to newly cleaned poles. It’s a project I’ve not had the pleasure of participating in before. These are the flags that we place in holes on the main blvds in town for all holidays. The holes are placed in front of all businesses that donate money to support the project. Everyone ponies up a donation because not having a flag in front of your business is an honor and when the one in front of your business is missing, everyone in town knows you didn’t help out. That’s a lie, of course. Once a hole is drilled in the sidewalk, it will always get a flag, and everyone is very generous with their support. It looks really nice to see all those flags fluttering in the breeze early in the morning.

Last Thursday I went golfing with Doug and JP. Oddly, I remembered most of the rules for golfing and had probably the best round of my checkered life. I had a 48 (for nine holes). Normally I’m in the 60’s, rarely in the 50’s. Getting it to 48 is beyond belief. On top of that, I beat both Doug and JP, something I’ve never ever done before. It was a good day. Then I came home a moved a bunch of rocks and dirt.

Though you don’t know it, just before starting this paragraph, there was a brief pause while I consoled the dogs and explained, once again, that it’s OK for deer to walk through the yard. We have a momma and a little speckled fawn that make regular trips around the neighbor hood eating all the flowers. They are quite popular, needless to say.

Now I must remove the rest of the grime from my body so I can contemplate bed in preparation for another early morning assault on the unsuspecting yard salers of Columbia County. At 1300 tomorrow all that remains will be placed in the church carport, where it will all languish, waiting for the Senior Center Thrift Store truck to show up and cart it all away. Forever. We hope.

Hope everyone had a great day.

Noxious Weeds & Other Things

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The first round of blackberries are ready for picking, so get your buckets and come help us get rid of them. No matter how vicious I am with the blackberry clippers, they grow back. So, we have a zillion of them. If you don’t like them for eating, it’s always fun to give them to little kids so they can smear them all over each other. That’s always fun.

IMG_0083These things are all over the place and they are very clingy when attacked. Long sleeves, long pants, hats, and leather gloves are a must unless you have are OK with pain and bleeding. The upside is, of course, they taste really good and make the challenge of picking them worth it.

My unsupervised forays into the wilderness surrounding our home have been limited due to the high temperatures we’ve been having. High for us, that is. It’s really only in the high 80’s and low 90’s, but gets into the 60’s at night so sleeping is wonderful. Since I generally don’t venture outside unless I have something important to do, like remove weeds, rake rocks, haul trees to the burn pile, stuff like that, I always wind up expelling huge amounts of moisture that must be replaced. I know this because my lovely bride makes it her mission to ensure I don’t run dry. She brings me large glasses of water on a regular basis, and I’ve learned that I can go get it all by myself, when I want, leaving her free to do more important things like cook dinner for me, or clean the house. You know, woman-type work. That sounds a bit sexist, I guess, but we have a relationship where I take care of things outside the house, and Diane takes care of things on the inside. She told me that once. It’s good to be king.

Having said that, I must share that Jeran would disagree – I’m not the king. Instead, Diane is the queen. He has no illusions about who’s in charge at my location. Neither do I, really. I just have lapses in common sense once in a while and think I’m the ruler. Diane will agree.

Diane just left to play bunco at a friend’s house, so I’m alone with the TV remote. It’s a rare event for me to have the remotes in our living room. The Man Room is where I’m free to change channels to my heart’s desire. Fortunately, Diane’s remote and my remote are just exactly alike so I know how to use it.

That’s what I’m going to do, right now. Just sit here and randomly change channels.

What fun.

Don’t forget those blackberries.

Ultrasounds, Lawn Mowers, and Lightning

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This morning Diane drove me to Good Sam hospital for an ultrasound. It was scheduled, not a spur-of-the-moment thing. Nope. I called yesterday and made the appointment all by myself. I did so as a result of my last doctor visit at which I was advised to do so. So, I did. The complaint I had, in case anyone missed it, was an ache in my lower left abdomen area that radiated to the right side occupant of my scrotum. That’s my right side, not yours. It’s been there since my angiogram so I wasn’t sure what was going on. I figured doc would make an effort to rule out a hernia first, and that’s what the ultrasound was all about.

Kit was the technician who did the ultrasound so it was a bit touchy at first. I talked to her a bit, reassuring her it would be all right if she waved her wand over my scrotum because I’d lost all my inhibitions years ago. She calmed down and went about her business in a professional manner. I have to admit that the application of the warmed jelly stuff to my scrotum was quite pleasant so I scheduled another appointment for next month. Just for fun.

From Portland, we took I-5 north to Longview, Washington so Diane could show me the nifty storage buildings she discovered a couple of days ago when she took Jennie to her orthopedist where she learned that the avulsion fraction of her right ankle isn’t a recent break. So, she didn’t get a cast like she was afraid would happen. The buildings she found are exactly what we had in mind, but different. I mentioned before that we were planning to embed a storage building for the lawn mower into one of the slopped areas on which many irises used to grow until I ripped them out of the ground. Instead, the buildings we looked at are all above ground and I learned we can build, or install a 10×20 foot building without a building permit. That’s a big building. Bigger than I had anticipated. But, having one of those for the mower and lawn tools would provide enough space to remove pretty much everything that’s laying on the floor in the basement. That’s a plus. I don’t really know why we’d do that, but knowing we could is an attractive feature. The buildings, by the way, are made in Oregon from lumber that was made from logs that were shipped to China six years ago. A lot of logs are shipped from here. Lots and lots of them. Zillions, I’m sure.

From the building lot, we went back home to let the dogs out. They like it when we do that. Then we sat for an hour or so, then went to the Scappoose Fred Meyer to get bark mulch for the flower beds. We discussed the wisdom of getting bags of it, or calling Beaver Bark and having a truck deliver a load. The delivery would have been cheaper, probably, but the bags were on sale. So, we got 20 of them. Half of them we left with Diane’s Mom, Jean. She’s been wanting some for her front flower beds. Tomorrow we plan to go down and spread it around for her.

When we returned home, I continued my work on a poster for American Legion Post 42 that advertises our AR-15 raffle. I also made up a list with 500 slots on which to capture the names of those who purchase tickets. In case anyone is interested, they are $10 each. First prize is the AR-15, second prize is $250 cash, and third prize is $100 cash. All profits made will benefit veterans in Columbia County. The drawing will be on Veteran’s day, 11/11/14, at 11:11 am at the Veteran’s Memorial in McCormick Park in St. Helens.

Then I mowed our entire yard in 1 hour and 20 minutes. All of it. But, I have mulching blades installed. It takes about 3 hours if I use the grass catcher thingies. Also, there wasn’t much to mow. It was more about cutting the tops off all the dandelions and other random weeds. But, it looks better, just the same.

Speaking of McCormick Park … the city has a popular frisbee golf course that is going to be one of the courses used in the National Frisbee Championship. I haven’t got any details, only that it, and probably the only at the Trojan Park will be used. Trojan Park is what’s left of the old Trojan Nuclear Power Plant where I used to work. It’s also the one at which Homer Simpson used to works. I thought I’d met pretty much everyone at the plant during my tenure, but never ran across Homer even one time. I was in the IT department so guess he didn’t use a computer. That would explain it. There were a few people who, in retrospect, quite possibly could have been Homer but that’s only based on short memory snippets of those I encountered who displayed questionable behavior. Nothing definitive.

Back at home, I joined Diane on the porch just after the sun went down and we watched the lightning strikes going on in Southern Washington. You may have heard about the huge wild-fire in progress east of Seattle that was caused by lightning. It was actually four fires caused by lightning that burned together and currently covers a 400 square mile area. Lots of homes have gone up in smoke due to the fire, and the lightening we witnessed this evening doesn’t bode well for the southern reaches.

Fires like this are not uncommon and there’s really not a lot anyone can do about preventing them. How could anyone stop lightning in the far reaches of a remote forest? Fires like this have been going on since the first trees started growing. Even with all the fires going on, pretty regularly as an annual event, I once heard that there is more standing forest now than when Lewis & Clark traversed this area. The reason is, of course, that we have equipment, and brave people, who find a way to contain current fires. Back then, they just burned until they went out. Makes sense.

A mosquito buzzed us, so we retreated to the house innards, and I’m seriously considering bed. So, g’nite all. Stay safe.

Oh! I almost forgot. I really didn’t make another appointment for an ultrasound. I was just kidding. I am, however, planning to experiment with some warm blackberry jelly and ziplock bags in an effort to find a way to go to sleep without meds and still keep the sheets clean. Diane won’t be happy about this, I’m sure, but it’s all in the name of research. I’m sure she’ll see the wisdom once she thinks about it a bit.

Golf, Baseball, & Thieves

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Yesterday I was forced to participate in a golf tournament at the Wildwood Golf Course which everyone in the country knows is located on the West side of Highway 30 not too far past the truck scales on the way to Portland from Scappoose. Most everyone of importance also knows that Jack & Wynette had their wedding reception in the Wildwood Club House which was located right next to Highway 30. At some point in the future, it mysteriously burned down, the golf course receded back into the forest, lost & forgotten, and was ultimately resurrected and expanded into an 18-hole course that careens through a small valley, and up and down hills. The current owner is, in my opinion, an abject jerk, so I don’t go there often. I may never go there again, for that reason. One person mentioned that he’s a “money whore,” which was confirmed by his willingness to insert walk-on golfers into the midst of the tournament we were involved in. Nice.

The tournament was a version of best ball, and it was gratifying to me that a couple of my balls were deemed best. That just means that I hit my ball better than those in our foursome so everyone was allowed to hit their next shot from that spot. I even made a few pretty good chip shots onto the green. My foursome was composed of Doug & Jim, high school classmates, and George, a person none of us had ever met until tee time. All in all, it was a good day.

On the way home I followed Doug home so I could check Carolyn’s computer to see why her Gmail wouldn’t appear. She wasn’t there when we arrived, but her computer was energized so I hit a few keys, clicked the Gmail icon and it popped up quite smartly. When Doug saw this he went, “Hmmm. She must have figured it out.” Then we sat in the living room and visited for a while. Then I went home to play in the dirt for a while before cleaning up to attend Lydia’s soccer game.

Before getting dirty, I took my mid day pills. Shortly thereafter, we went to Diane’s Mom’s, Jean’s, house for a visit where I promptly fell asleep. Then we went to the soccer game which wound up in a 2-2 tie. They played against the 14U rec league team and Lydia played goalie the whole game. Since it was a practice game, and most of those on the 14U team are in-coming St. Helens freshmen this year, the goalies switched sides at half time. The second half Lydia had to block against the varsity team and that’s when she gave up the two goals. But, she blocked about 20 shots. She did good.

Back at home, I had a hard time staying awake so decided to go to bed. It was then I discovered that I had taken my sleeping pill, the dreaded Ambien, somewhere around 3 pm. So, the erratic behavior Diane witnessed was totally not my fault. I slept through the night anyway, which surprised me.

This morning I got back into my morning nap routine and didn’t go out to get dirty and sweaty until 10 am or so. Consequently, I only got about 4 hours in before it was deemed time to eat lunch. We had Taco Bell tacos, always a favorite.

While writing this, I got a text from brother Jack, who is in Arizona with his first wife at this time, watching Sage pitch against a California team at the Cincinnati Reds training field in Phoenix. Sage, as you may all recall, is Maryssa’s boyfriend who is going to play for the North Carolina Tarheels after he graduates from high school next year. He’s a talent to watch. Click his name to check him out – Sage Diehm. A little more research revealed that Sage is the first Idaho baseball player ever recruited by North Carolina. Last text I got from Jack indicated that one of Sage’s teammates had hit a triple, driving in one run so it was 1-0. Nothing since so I have no idea what’s going on now. The suspense is killing me, but I’m not going to beg for an update. Nope. Just not going to do it.

I’m going to have to go rent a large piece of equipment from Don’s Rental so I can move some dirt around a little, leveling the area next to garage in preparation of installing a load of gravel that doesn’t squish up when a car drives over it. That’s wheat we have right now is squishy rocks. They are all round, which was intentional, to allow for good drainage into the pipe I installed some time back. Now I want to park something on it, like one of the old motor homes, or my truck, and need non-squishy gravel so it will remain level. To get the equipment home means I must spend a bit of time trouble shooting my truck to find out which ignition wire I dislodged the last time I drove it so I can get it started. I’ve already cleared this event as one that isn’t technically “working outside” since I’ll be inside the truck, so I’m good to go. Just need to work up a little more motivation. Might even see about getting the old ’73 RV fired up. Or not.

You may have heard about the crime spree going on around town these last few months. Thieves are going around during the day, knocking on doors so see who’s home. Those who aren’t get robbed. Those who are home are asked questions about someone they are looking for, wondering if they are inside. Last I heard, about 60 homes had been robbed. Sadly, the spree has extended to our quiet little dead-end street. Since we have Panzee, a large barking dog who greets family, friends, and strangers with the same intimidating welcome, I doubt seriously if anyone would be motivated to break into the house in our absence. But, you just never know. To be on the safe side, we decided it would probably be a good idea to lock all the doors, to everything, when we leave. In the past we’ve failed to do that many times.

So, any of you who may be compelled to visit our house when we’re aware be forewarned that Panzee, Breezie, and Ozzie have been training as a team to take down anyone they don’t know. It will work like this … you enter the house, via any access, and Panzee will make a concerted effort to rip your testicles off while Breezie takes care of your eyelids. Oz will gnarl his way around your ankles, severing your Achilles tendon, allowing it to snap up into the calf of your leg accompanied by an incredible amount of mind-numbing pain, ensuring you cannot flee the scene. In the unlikely event you are of the female persuasion, Panzee will go for your neck and face. If you have large breasts, you may want to wear a really tight sports bra because they’ll probably get in her way. Breezie’s and Oz’s missions do not change. I do not feel there’s a need to post this information outside the house because the dogs will make their presence known at the first hint of a foreign presence.

In the event you are still compelled to pay us a visit, please ensure you have the name of your next of kin somewhere on your body. Since the back of your shoulders probably will remain undisturbed, it would be a great place to tattoo that information. Alternatively, if you are opposed to tattoos, please have your partner in crime use a permanent black marker to help you write this information on the inside band of your underwear. If you don’t wear underwear, the waistband of your pants will suffice.

Better yet, just ensure you have proper ID on entry.

Good luck.

Now I must quit for today and go outside, by request, and climb to the top of a 24′ extension ladder to replace one of our outside security lights.