Seaside, Oregon – Day 2

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

0512 – although the dogs aren’t with us, my body apparently forgot and forced me to get up and go to the bathroom. After wiping off the seat, I went right back to bed and slept until Diane got up for her ‘morning call’. She didn’t wake me up by getting out of bed, but by closing the bathroom door. It’s very creaky and squeaky. That wasn’t a problem for me because the door was already open and I saw no reason to close it at 0512 in the morning. Flushing the toilet was more of a concern for me than the door, so I didn’t flush. Diane didn’t mention it so she didn’t notice, or chose to just not comment. I have no idea what time she got up because I was feigning sleep in case the toilet proved to be an issue. After a short time, Mom got up and then the noise started – the TV came on, the coffee was started, and they began talking non-stop.

Not all of that is true, of course, but I’m not going to tell you what parts. Just let your mind run wild with that.

The morning noises weren’t a problem – they were actually comforting. I couldn’t understand what was being said, just the underlying buzz of vocal chords vibrating in the air, but I knew they were talking about me. They always are. Even when we’re home alone Diane talks about me under her breath. She doesn’t know I can hear her, but I do. Most people would call that paranoia, which is true. It is. It keeps me on my toes.

I finally drug myself out of bed at 0815. I felt refreshed and ready for another day. I’ve been planting seeds in Mom’s head that we’re going to ride the bumper cars today. Either that or the ’tilt-a-whirl’. Her choice. So far she hasn’t committed. The girls were watching Good Morning America so I sat and watched, too, while eating my banana and Tillamook yogurt, which everyone knows comes directly from specially bred Tillamook yogurt cows without processing. It’s amazing. The farmers just feed these cows the proper fruits to make whatever flavor they want. Today I had the raspberry kind so my cow ate raspberries. I love that kind. Diane likes key lime which make her cows pucker while processing.

It’s now 0945 and everyone has been cleaned up except me. I’ve been stalling because I don’t want to take a shower. But I will. Everyone else is smelling good, so ‘spect I should, too.

There is no plan for today so, like normal, we’ll just let whimsy take control of our sense of direction. I do know of at least two places we will visit that are required for trips to this area. One is Haystack Rock at Cannon Beach.

If you’ve ever seen the movie “Goonies”, you’ve seen Haystack Rock. It was depicted as the location of the pirate ship in the movie. It isn’t, however, hollow. It’s a 237 foot tall monolith that we used to climb on as small children but has since been designated as a bird sanctuary, mainly seagulls, I think, like this …

Now, people can walk up to it, touch it, and check out the really neat tide pools that surround it, but feet aren’t allowed. This can only be done at low tide because the water gets pretty deep around it when the tide comes in. That’s another reason they closed it to foot traffic because of the incredible number of ignorant people who climbed it at low tide and waited too late before trying to leave.

Diane and I walked down on the beach, at Tolovana, so we could touch the water, a tradition with us – gotta touch the water – and met Mike, a former stranger, on the way. He asked that I take a picture of him with Haystack Rock in the background, so I did. We talked a while and learned that he’s from Aloha (pronounced Aloah), worked for Tektronix, and Intel, and has been married for 30 years as of yesterday. Diane said she looked around for a likely bride but didn’t see one. It didn’t occur to me to question why he was on the beach alone if this was his anniversary trip. He may have had her hog tied in their room awaiting further attention for all we know.

Here’s Diane with Haystack Rock, and she’s advertising Cannon Beach …

While on the beach a couple of fishermen drove their boat up on the beach, hooked it up to their pickup, which was parked nearby, drug the boat further away from the surf line, ratcheted it onto their trailer and drove away. Interesting. Never saw anyone do that before.

Once the boat was gone, we kinda lost interest in the beach. We’ve seen Haystack so many times over the years, loving it every time, but the missing boat was a detractor. I went back to the car to make sure Grams was OK, and took some more pictures of the area as we waited for Diane to return from the restroom. It took her a while to return but she clarified the delay by telling us she had to weave her way through a “turdload” of people who were congregated in the middle of the sidewalk at the top of the stairs to the beach. We are unclear as to what a “turdload” constitutes, but all agreed it was best to be elsewhere. So, we left, transiting through the Cannon Beach tourist district on the way.

It was very festive down there with cars parked everywhere, and everyone jay walking willy nilly across the street, giving us stark reminders why we like Cannon Beach better in the winter.

On the way back to Highway 101, Diane took a left turn toward Ecola State Park which is NOT to be associated with E coli bacteria although we always think of that when we visit that park. It’s a really nice park and we were allowed to skip the $5 day use fee because I showed the cute young ranger my VA card. At least I think we got in free because of my VA card, but it could easily have been that she was overcome by my shining personality and astonishing good looks, and swooned a little, giving Diane a chance to sneak through the gate before she recovered. No one chased us so it was all good.

Ecola State Park gives people an excellent view of Cannon Beach, the town, and Cannon Beach, the beach, as well as Haystack Rock and other smaller affiliated rocks that stick up out of the ocean. Very picturesque.

Oddly, Ecola Point Lighthouse is just off … well … just off Ecola point.

Then it was back to Norma’s, as promised, for late lunch. It wasn’t really all that late, but it was after noon. Before dumping Grams and me in front of Norma’s, we did another drive to the turnaround to see how the volley ball poles were looking. Amazingly, all of them had nets – hundreds of volley ball nets where once I played as a tender young boy. Next thing you know they’ll be laying asphalt out there so people won’t get sand on their feet while walking to the beach. That actually makes sense, since I was able to gather enough sand in my shoes at Cannon Beach to leave my mark in the car that Diane so laboriously vacuumed before we left on this trip. Thankfully, she did the same thing on the driver’s carpet, so I didn’t get in trouble. Oh, and our hostess told Diane that there are 900 – nine hundred – teams signed up for next weekend’s volleyball tournament. Amazing.

As I said, Diane dumped Grams and me in front of the restaurant, claiming it looked like there might be a waiting line, then she went to park the Buick. Grams and I risked our lives crossing the street so we could gain entrance to this historically acclaimed facility. There was no line and we were promptly seated in a booth with a good view of all the patrons entering and leaving.

Finally, Diane arrived and we were allowed to order our food. We’ve been talking about how great the sea food is at Norma’s, and how much Grams will like it, so what did she order? One half of a turkey sandwich. I could only surmise that she presumed it was ‘Turkey of the Sea’ brand turkey which made it a fitting lunch for a well-known sea food restaurant.

It was good she only got 1/2 a sandwich because it had enough turkey in it for a whole meal deal. She could barely wrap her lips around it, but she did, and she ate the entire thing.

Diane got a broiled piece of dead halibut with fries …

… and I had fetuccini alfredo with some dead tiger prawns scattered through out as well as a cup of Norma’s celebrated clam chowder.

Though good, Valerie’s clam chowder is every bit as good, if not better. I enjoyed my meal anyway.

Since our assigned quarters are only about a block away from Norma’s, and Diane had parked there, we walked up to the boardwalk, enjoying the afternoon sun, and slowly walked back to our cabin. Very relaxing.

The maids were making up our room when we got back, and I almost had to perform CPR on one of them. She turned the water on at the kitchen sink and the little sprayer thing blew off and water sprayed up to the ceiling. She recovered nicely, however, and got things cleaned up. Turns out the sprayer just wasn’t screwed on all the way. I claimed innocence though I’m not sure everyone in the room believed me.

While they were finishing up the room, we retired to the little yard outside our cabin door.

Last night in this little yard, two young ladies were BBQing bacon and chicken. That sounds so awesome that I can’t wait to get home and try it. I might just leave the chicken out and do the bacon.

Now it’s almost 6 pm, and the day is winding down to a successful conclusion. It was a good one. Tomorrow we must depart for warmer climes – it’s 90+ at home – and get back into the routine of “doing things”. That’s OK. I can do that.

Until then, however, I seek everyone’s advice as to what constitutes a “turdload” of people to you. Is it the number of people, or is it the quality of people? Perhaps it’s just an overall impression. I’m not sure and Diane doesn’t really know what it means, either. It was just one of those spontaneous things Diane blurts out once in a while, making me laugh.

Maybe it’s a situation and hasn’t got anything to do with people.

I have this inappropriate image in my head about what it might mean, but I’m sure it’s wrong, so I need help.

I’d appreciate it.

Thanks.

Seaside, Oregon – Day 1

Posted on August 5, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

Here we are, safely tucked into our nifty little cabin near the beach. The Hillcrest Inn has three cabins and a bunch of rooms. We’ve stayed in the rooms before, but never one of the cabins. It was necessary this trip because we brought Diane’s Mom, Jean, with us. As I mentioned, I think, her birthday is this coming Thursday. She will be 86. Though her knees pain her, and her back gives her fits, but she still lives alone and gets around just great. We plan to spend a lot of time walking back and forth from our cabin and various restaurants in the area. Might even walk up and down the boardwalk and little.

It’s not actually a boardwalk. It’s really a cement walk that’s a mile or so long. The west side of it has a railing (cement columns) with occasional openings to the beach, should one wish to get sand in their shoes. Some don’t. The ‘Walk’ is wide enough to accommodate walkers, bicyclers, skate boarders, runners, and roller skaters in both directions. Sometimes you have to dodge a little, but generally it isn’t a problem. Walking along the ocean is always nice.

When we left St. Helens the sky was clear and it was about 88 degrees. We heard on the radio that it was expected to reach about 97 in Canby, wherever that is. I think it’s out toward the Columbia River Gorge someplace. Judy and Anselmo live there so they can confirm if it really got that hot today.

Leaving Rainier revealed clouds in the direction we were headed which meant cooler temperatures at the coast. No surprise because that’s always the way it is. By the time we got to our cabin, after a quick unplanned tour of Seaside because of a wrong turn by the driver, who wasn’t me, the sky was totally obliterated with cloud cover. The sun was no longer shining at all and it was noticeably cooler. Too cool for the cute little shorts I was wearing. I’m still wearing them because we haven’t left the cabin since arriving. Lunch was the first priority then I made a valiant attempt to convince the other inhabitants that a nap would be good, but they disagreed.

Now it’s almost 4 pm and I think we’re going for a walk so I better seriously consider inserting myself into a pair of jeans and some real shoes. I wore my water shoes for the trip but brought my comfy sneakers for long walks. The trouble is with those, is, that I only brought those little fake socks that girls wear. I suppose if I wear my jeans low enough no will notice. Maybe I’ll find a place to buy a real pair of socks.

<><><><> 5:45 pm

Took a walk down the cement walk to the turn around …

… then down Broadway looking at all the stuff in the windows placed there to lure in the unsuspecting tourist. On the Walk, we encountered this gentleman seeking donations for his efforts at sand sculpting …

Pretty amazing. It’s just sand and water, he said, and he does a sculpture every day.

After surviving the gentle chilly breeze on the board walk, we headed down Broadway to search for something to cover Grams’ ears. She tried on a few, but chose to not get any of them. This one is my favorite …

The breeze lessened as we got on Broadway so we thought it would be OK to get ice-cream. We passed dozens of people eating cones so it kinda sparked an interest. Funny how that happens. I had almond praline, Diane had raspberry sorbet, and Grams had mocha almond fudge. I could have eaten a double scoop but chose to be sensible.

The beach in front of the turnaround, at the foot of Broadway, and about 1/4 mile wide, is filled with poles, and two rigs with augers putting up more poles, for volley ball nets. Hundreds of them. Apparently this coming weekend is the largest non-professional volley ball tournament in the world. Pretty awesome. We spoke to one of the clerks, all of whom are cute young ladies at the store we actually entered, and learned about this majestic event. She told us that for the championship games on Sunday, bulldozers hit the beach and scoop up mountains of sand around the play off courts so people will have a good view of the players. Sounds pretty cool, but influx of people to participate in, and watch the festivities will make parking and driving in Seaside absolutely impossible. Like Diane said, people would have to park in Astoria and walk to Seaside. Not true, of course, but parking will be awful.

We’ll be home before the influx and will check it all out on the internet. Here’s a link to Seaside Volleyball in case you’re interested. Turns out they’ve been doing this for 32 years. Who knew?

Diane and Mom abandoned me at the cabin and went to Rite Aid to get Grams something to cover her ears when we walk. It’s chilly in the evening, and it’s chilly during the day, too, when the sun doesn’t shine. Hopefully one of the days we’re here will be sunny. Doesn’t really matter, but it would be nice. I mention my abandonment because they just returned. I got new long socks, to lessen my pain, Grams got a fancy $1.39 scarf, and Diane go some cranberry gel caps and honey nut peanut butter.

Diane gets peanut butter sandwiches, but I don’t because we didn’t bring any crunchy peanut butter and she didn’t buy any. I I am not allowed to eat PB&J sandwiches with creamy peanut butter. It’s just wrong. It should be illegal. But I’ll probably try one and like it.

Time to stop for today. Tomorrow we eat at Norma’s, our favorite place to eat in Seaside.

Class of ’62

Posted on August 4, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

The day is over, we’re home safe, and we had a great day. We got to spend an afternoon with 15 of my high school classmates. As I mentioned yesterday, as many as possible of us get together at least once a year. Today we were hosted by Jim And Sue in Lake Oswego. It was a great location, excellent host and hostess, and they have a nifty rescue dog, Romeo. He looks like the flying fuzzy dragon in “The Never Ending Story”. Cute dog.

The gathering included a pot luck dinner, which is the only way to eat. I love pot lucks.

Not much else to share today except this picture of a bunch of old people having a really good time.

Standing L-R: David, Jimbo, Josette, John, Judy, Howard, John, Sam, Darell, Vern

Sitting L-R: Karen, Eva, Vonnie, Phyllis, Me

David, Sam’s twin, was there, but he and his bride left before the group photo.

Our host and hostess …

0-Dark-Thirty and Later

Posted on August 3, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

That’s what time it is. Seems like there’s a book out there somewhere with that name on it, perhaps written by a Navy Seal that validates this as a proper time of day. Of course now, at this moment, it’s actually 0-dark-42. I’ve been fiddling around.

The cat stayed out again last night doing only God knows what. When she spends her nights outside she’s always there to run with the dogs when I let them out. She doesn’t let them out of her sight to ensure she’s there to gain access when I open the door for them, but she doesn’t stay long. I’ve been trained, by her claws screeching on the patio door glass, to make sure that door is opened a bit so she can keep an eye on the outside cat food bowl. Doing this makes it far easier for me to enjoy my morning nap because there is no screeching claws. The dogs like it too, because when it get light enough to see outside, they can go out and bark at random things.

This morning, the cat came in acknowledged my presence, gobbled half a cup of her dry food, and the three little treats I always put out for her before I go to bed, then promptly gave it all back, reaffirming my belief that a Puking Cat alarm clock would really work. It’s an unmistakable sound that gets everyone’s attention. I always find it interesting that virtually nothing a cat barfs up has a tooth mark in it. They swallow everything whole which makes all those commercials about how tasty the various kinds of cat food are a bunch of hooey. They don’t care how it tastes. I mean, c’mon, they lick their butts. So, perhaps they would enjoy a nice can of gourmet, butt-flavored cat food once in a while. Then we could toss in a spoon of dog-butt flavored food to change it up for them. That would probably make them puke, however. No, maybe not, because cats just puke on a whim, maybe just for the fun of it, or the noise it makes and how we react to it. Who knows?

I’m sorry I went down that trail. Obviously it’s something that has consumed my attention this morning and I had to rid my brain of it before my morning nap, which I’m going to take right now.

I’ll be back later with more Bathroom success stories … hmm … that brings up an entirely different train of thought than I had in mind. Good title for a blog – “Bathroom Success Stories”. Naw. If I did that I’d just have to hire a lawyer and get a divorce because it would make Diane cranky that I did something like that. So, I’ll stick to the mundane bathroom stories, for now.

<><><><> It’s later, now. Like 10:13 pm. In dog hours, that’s 2213. <><><><>

The bathroom effort resulted in the installation of the sheet rock, to cover up the suspect PEX routing, and the installation of the 2nd sink. Next, for the walls, will be the wainscoting. The sinks will have to come down again for that evolution, but at least they are perfectly useable until that happens.

We also installed two sheets of cement board on the back wall of the tub, so that’s moving along, too. We should be installed the tile just any month now.

While I was slaving away with Daniel on The Bathroom, Diane took Jennie, Cedric, and Lydia to Fred Meyer to buy shoes. It’s a tradition that we buy new shoes for all the kids for the new school year. Jeran doesn’t like shopping and threw up so he wouldn’t have to go. So, they had to guess at what size he wears. All of the kids finally wear shoes bigger than all the adults they know so borrowing is no longer an option. They have to have their own shoes.

When we started this tradition, shoes were reasonably priced. Now they aren’t. I think we’re broke again until the Social Security check shows up.

After terminating The Bathroom project I came home and visited with the dogs for a bit before taking a short nap. I actually didn’t nap, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed just sitting here doing nothing. It was awesome.

Diane finally got home around 6:30 pm, with a Papa Murphy’s pizza. I already had the over warmed up to the requisite 425 degrees so I stuffed it in as soon as she got home. It was done in 8 minutes. Then we ate while the church newsletter printed. I assemble and print it every month. I don’t know how I got conned into doing that, but I’ve done it for a long time now. I think I may have volunteered to do it. Instead of printing 80 copies a month, as I used to, I now just print 15 and the rest are delivered via email. Saves ink, and paper.

That’s it for now. Tomorrow we are going to one of my high school classmate’s home in Lake Oswego for our annual picnic. Yes, we have a semi-class reunion every year. We’ve been doing it for years. Usually, we get about 20 class mates, and their spouses. Twenty out of the original 100 isn’t too bad for a class that graduated in 1962. Wow! That’s 51 years ago. I had no idea that I was that old. Go figure.

I’ll let you know how it goes, and will probably include a picture, or three.

Pianos, Organs, and Chimneys

Posted on August 2, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I have to tell you, I’m learning all kinds of new things this week. Sadly, I don’t remember what those tasks were, but I’ve documented it here so I can review, if necessary. The thing is, you see, that once I drain my brain into my computer, via the keyboard, my memory of those events are dulled, or simply gone. It’s convenient because it leaves more room for new things. I can’t tell you how many times in the past, when I didn’t have this way of unloading data, my brain got full to overflowing and it was distressing. I had information running out of my ears, eyes, nose, and mainly my mouth. It was absolutely dreadful to experience and, I’m told, not fun to look at. I was a mess. Now I’m not. Now I’m adorable. Ask Diane.

Today I removed pretty much everything from our two car garage, half of which is reserved for Diane’s Buick, in order to vacuum up the accumulated debris that has collected over the past 3-4 years. My ultimate goal, which I attained, was to make more room on the passenger side of the vehicle so I could get in and out, inside the garage, without hitting the piano. Or the organ. Those things are always in the way, it seems. I just needed to move them west a little bit to make room, but that entailed moving everything on the other side of them first. So I did that.

About the time I got everything out, Diane reminded me that we were supposed to visit her Mom so I could ensure the chimney was properly secured to the roof, and sealed around the flashing because she found bits of what looked like caulking on the ground after the guys were done washing her roof to remove the moss.

So, I started moving everything back into the garage, although it would have been perfectly fine to leave it outside because no one bothers us up here in the sticks. Being on a dead-end street doesn’t hurt, either. But, I moved it all back in, anyway. At least most of it. Before moving it back, however, I moved the piano and organ over to the new spots I had selected. Then I just started hauling things back in and stacked them all around the west side of the garage. Now there’s plenty room for me to get in and out of the Buick.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Why is there a piano and an organ in the garage? That’s a very good question which I will attempt to answer in a manner that makes sense.

The piano was given to us by the renter we had in our old house. That’s the house we sold in 2008. We waited until then to ensure we would get the absolute least amount of money possible for our investment. When the renters left, we chose to not be landlords any longer and sold it. In the basement of that house sat this player piano that was to be a restoration project. Long story short, it didn’t work out and the renters didn’t want to move it so gave it to us. And we moved it to our garage as a project for me because I thought it would be a challenge to make it work. All the parts are there and I’m sure I can restore it. It shouldn’t take more than 15 years or so at the rate I’m going. So far all I’ve been able to accomplish is to not scratch it. I’m sure sitting in the garage all this time hasn’t been good for it, but won’t know until I get it into a place where I can dismantle it and shine up the innards. One of these days …

The organ was a gift from a family who received it as a gift and found it necessary to give it away. The deal is, if we get rid of it, it will be as a gift to someone else. It’s final destination was supposed to be our basement, with the other piano, but it weighs about a ton and isn’t something Diane and I can move. I’m absolutely positive it would tip over and break if we tried to move it. So, it sits in the garage, back to back with the piano. Unplayed. That’s in part because the dismantled pool table, which is another story, is taking up most of the free basement space. That, and a whole bunch of computer parts. And dead printers. I don’t know why I keep those things.

Also in the garage are three rather large tools that I bequeathed to Jeff, but he doesn’t have room for them. So, I’m thinking about asking Dan & Jennie if I can move them to their garage. They don’t know that yet. Probably will after Jennie reads this, but I’ll ask tomorrow, anyway. I’ll be there working on The Bathroom some more. Should be able to get the 2nd sink installed so Lydia and put a plastic bag over the first one and officially claim it as her very own. That will make her happy. It will also make the boys happy because it will save them about one step, each direction, when they are forced to go wash their hands before a meal. That, and brushing their teeth. Stuff like that.

So, back to our garage …

After putting almost everything back, we went to Mom’s and I climbed on the roof to inspect the chimney flashing. It looked OK, but the bricks looked like someone had passed a pressure washer across the front, but didn’t finish. So, with a bucket of suds, and a sturdy brush, I set about scrubbing it clean. Diane and Mom sat in the yard, in lawn chairs, watching me work very hard and getting the bricks clean while at the same time make a concerted effort to remain on the roof. There were a couple of “touch and go” moments, but I didn’t fall. Didn’t even get dizzy like a sometimes do when I realize I’m in danger.

The end result was a clean chimney and a happy Diane and happy Mom. Because of that, I was also happy.

Then we came home and Diane made me spaghetti for dinner. I love that stuff. Especially with most of my baguette remaining from yesterday. As you probably know, if you don’t eat those things within a day of purchase, you can take them to your shop and use them to hammer nails. They really get hard.

Speaking of the baguette … I mentioned yesterday that I was going to make a 3 foot long ham and cheese sandwich. I couldn’t do that because the loaf was only 25 inches long. So, I chopped off about 8 inches for my sandwich and we ate the rest this evening. It was still soft.

Now I must quit and think about going to bed. Diane is watching ‘All My Children’ on OWN (Oprah Winfrey Network) and will be busy for a while so I may be able to get to sleep before her for a change. That rarely happens because she is able to be completely asleep within seconds of deciding that’s what she wants to do.

August?

Posted on August 1, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

It’s August already and I was just getting used to July.

To commemorate the day, Diane went to the dentist for her annual cleaning, and I stayed home to haul more refuse to the burn pile. Because I’m making so many trips, the burn pile is way bigger than legal for burning, when burning is once again OK. Like when it rains.

Speaking of rain … it kinda did that today. Not enough to measure, but enough so that a normal person could tell it was falling from the sky, not ricocheting off the sidewalk from a power washer, which I was using at the time. That was late in the day, of course, long after the burn pile runs.

Part of my clean up effort was on the west side of the garage where hardly anyone ever goes except the stray cats who come to visit. I think they live out there in the brush. Well, I removed a considerable amount of that today, along with some more, yes more, blackberry vines. Those things are just everywhere. The ones down by the burn pile come in handy, however, because they have tons of berries which I pick and eat as I drive by on the mower. I used to do that with the one raspberry vine until I accidentally mowed it down. I could usually count on that one vine giving me at least 10-20 berries each year. Same for the loganberry vines. The latter seems to be dwindling away, however. I think the 10 foot tall filbert tree growing in the row may have something to do with that. It was planted a few years ago by an angry squirrel. Our neighbor has an adult filbert tree from whence come the nuts the angry squirrel plants. Our other neighbor has a huge walnut tree but the squirrel has yet to bless us with a fledgling walnut tree.

He does, however, find plenty of time to plant oak trees everywhere.

Another way I celebrated August 1st was to get a head start on Christmas decorations by decorating the remnants of the rhododendrons out front. What prompted this was the discovery of a very long string of plastic bead-like garland that has been sitting on a lawn chair beside the garage for the past 3-4 years. It was placed there because it had, for some odd reason, been left on the kitchen porch making it fair game for every cat in the neighborhood to claim it as their own. It smelled pretty bad. Bad enough that I was originally told to dispose of them, which I kinda did by getting them off the porch. So, they’ve been sitting out there through countless rain storms and seem to have been washed clean. So, I strung it up. Kind of festive, don’t you think?

When Diane discovers that I’ve done this she will probably make me take it down for the same reason she won’t let me leave our Christmas lights up year round. “It’s just not time,” she’ll say, but I think the remaining branches look at least a little bit dressed, now, instead of sitting out there all naked. It just seemed like the right thing to do. You can also see that I repurposed one of the branches as a hose hanger. Here’s a better picture for you, in case you want to see how it’s done…

The first person to notice my decorative efforts was our neighbor with the walnut tree, to our east. She’s pretty old, and pretty stooped over, but she gets around just great. She came up because she was having trouble with the new phone they got for use on their Comcast phone line. Apparently various people claim to have left messages which Muriel said they just haven’t received. I thought I knew what the problem was so went back to her house to confirm my suspicions. Since having their Comcast Triple Play they’ve never set up their voice messaging. So I did that for her. Sadly, I’ve been over there before helping get her email set up, but never thought about the phone. Once it was set up we discovered that she had 31 messages waiting. We listened to the first one and she was amazed, as was I, to learn it was from last December. I ran her through the drill of getting the voice messages to a point where she could listen to them, then left her with instructions to go through them all and make them go away.

Another thing I did today was replace one of the sprinklers in the flower beds. Apparently someone, or thing, bumped it hard enough to break the PVC below the ground. So, I got out all my spare PVC parts and found everything I needed, except for one. I regret not taking a picture while digging through the parts because I had them stacked all over the sidewalk, that I would later power wash, while looking for the pieces I needed. Not having all the necessary parts served as an opportunity to visit ACE and, perhaps, see brother Jack, which I did. He even helped me find the part I needed. I even got a bunch of them that may come in handy at some point in the future.

It’s always good to see Jack. Too bad brother Jim doesn’t live closer so I could visit with him once in a while. He should move, but he won’t because the really important members of his family all live in Nampa. I totally understand but still wish he was closer. I miss watching him sleep while he’s watching TV.

Now it’s time for me to eat supper so I must end this. Diane went shopping and got me a baguette, one of my favorite things, so I’m going to go make a 3′ long ham and cheese sandwich.

Ozzie & Zen Pruning

Posted on July 31, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

It’s almost 0600 and I’m sitting alone here in the semi-dark. Well, not really alone … Ozzie is sitting by my left foot on the recliner foot rest in his normal spot. It’s comforting to have someone as loud as he is because I know he’ll alert me when a stranger tries to get in the house and do us harm. He gives me enough warning that I can ‘get my Ninja on’ thereby thwarting any attack. Although he’s given us many warnings over the years, virtually all of them were false alarms. He had his big chance last summer when we had coyotes in the lower field, but all he did was stare at them staring back at him. I suspect that was a good move on his part and if I were cute and fuzzy like he is I’d done the same thing. No need to prod that dragon.

Most of his false alarm barking is at the black cat that frequents the field below us. We know the cat is looking for field mice, being in a field and all, but Ozzie doesn’t care. He just barks away like it’s the end of the world if we don’t let him out there to take care of matters. So, we do, and he runs down to our fence and stands there barking so hard his stiff little front legs bounce off the ground. The cat ignores him, so he barks harder.

Thankfully, after a relatively short time, he gets a whiff of something strange and trots off to see where it is so he can pee on it. Then he pees on it again from the other side for good measure and trots triumphantly back to the house. He’s a funny little guy.

I probably shouldn’t be doing this right now because it’s so early and I haven’t had my meds, yet. I have my water, but failed, once again, to bring my pill bucket to my morning lounging area. With Ozzie peacefully ensconced by my feet, I hesitate to lower the foot rest. Actually, I’m torn between lowering the foot rest slowly, allowing him to gently wake up, or just drop it out from under him and study his reaction to free-falling. I wouldn’t do the latter. Ever. Again.

However, I feel a nap coming on and need to ingest my legally obtained meds so I can recline with a clear mind. And, either my stomach is growling, or Ozzie is snoring so I have to arise and find out which one it is. Can’t nap until I know.

It is much later, now — 8:30 pm – so I have no idea what happened after that last paragraph. I actually don’t remember writing all of that this morning so was surprised to discover it when I opened up the blog. Hmmm. As for what happened, I’ll just have to go with “got up and got my pills, then had my nap.”

The rest of the day was a blur of activity accompanied with a prodigious amount of sweating on my part. Remember that rhododendron hedge I trimmed yesterday? This one?

Well, today I just whacked it all down.

You may think that was a rash move on my part, but I had permission to do it! How about that? Diane thought it would be a good idea, too, for me to apply some of my world-class zen pruning skills. So, when she left for her eye appointment, just after lunch, I broke out my trusty plug-in electric chain saw and went to work. I did all this and didn’t sustain any major injuries which may surprise most of you. Just a few scrapes and pokes, but nothing that actually bled. I, myself, found this interesting because it seems to be my destiny to bleed, at least a little, at some point in an evolution of this magnitude. But I didn’t. I don’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

I’ll go with relieved, for now.

The entire time I was working on dismantling the four rhoddies, I rehearsed in my mind what I’d be writing here. That’s unusual for me because I normally just turn it loose without thinking ahead of time. However, my overriding thought throughout the mayhem was that Diane would get home and be horribly disappointed that I could do such a thing. Before she left I again asked if she was OK with this and she said, “Yes.” I asked if she would commit that to writing, and she said, “No.” Not even a text, giving me permission? “No.”

So, as you can see, I was treading in dangerous territory, relying on my well documented faulty memory, to move forward with this project. But I did it.

When Diane returned, she said, “Good job. Why is the ladder still up against the gutter?” She’s been giving me a hard time about the ladder for a few weeks now. Maybe not that long, but a while for sure. I put it up there to address a dripping gutter while it was nice and dry. I was going to leave it up until I was sure it wouldn’t leak. That, and to replace the wood I ripped off in the process. But, I removed the ladder and called it good. I wonder how long it will be before she asks when I’m going to fix the hole I made.

Another thing I did today was run the lawn mower around the front, side, and back yards, to even up the dandelions. The grass is mostly brown, and not growing, but the dandelions just won’t quit. So, I took care of it. In the process, I sucked up all the residue of today’s evolution that couldn’t be picked up with a rake. The mower is excellent for jobs like that. It actually … well … my mower actually kind of sucks pretty good. My backup choice was taking the big shop vac and vacuum the lawn. That would have been tedious. I know. And I will never do that again, unless I can figure a way to put bigger wheels on the vac. The ones it comes with are just too small to roll smoothly on grass.

Over the past couple of days we had visits from Jennie with Lydia, and Jeran in tow. They spent last weekend camping at Big Eddy, and, knowing my prolific ability to injure myself, stopped by to show me theirs. Both of them hurt themselves running around the camp ground, in the dark, finally falling victim to some hard to see ropes holding down a neighbor’s tent. I would never do something like that. Mainly because it involves running. Here’s what they did to themselves.

Pretty nifty, huh?

Now, supper is done, I’m clean, and it’s time to just relax while watching some guys beat the crap out of each other with MMA. But first, I’ll just give you a visual on my lunch. It’s a three poached eggs and four pieces of toast. I made two sandwiches. Nice.

Unsupervised With Yard Tools

Posted on July 30, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

I trimmed the hedge out front today. It’s an odd kind of hedge, made up of 8 rhododendrons. It was just getting out of hand, growing so tall no one could look in our bedroom windows. So, it had to go, at least in part.

I used the battery-powered hedge trimmer that I rediscovered a couple of days ago, and it worked just fine. I even used the battery-powered chain saw that came with it to whack off a couple of big branches that I decided were no longer necessary.

Now the truth – I rally did trim to top and sides, but my goal was to carve a path to the water spigot on the house, and the nearby down spout from the front gutter. We have a hose connected to the spigot year round because it’s just too inconvenient to disconnect with all the branches in the way. Now there’s no excuse to leave the hose out when it freezes, but I’ll do it, anyway. It seems to weather the storms just fine.

The downspout, however, was another matter. It was constructed of 2″ PVC piping which is OK, but not normal, and it had a major flaw in that the gutter was connected to the drain pipe via two 90 degree elbows which restricts water flow immensely at the far end, where there should be another down spout, but there isn’t. One 2″ down spout to drain one entire side of the house, with two 90’s doesn’t make for a very efficient water removal tool.

I’ve been looking at that downspout for a few years now, and today decided it was time to rectify the situation. The first part was, of course, removing all the pokey branches from the hedge so I could get to it. Consequently, the front yard is a mess, full of what Diane would readily call “all that crap you cut down.” I admit, it’s unsightly, and I will remove it, possibly before she gets home. She’s working at Community Meals today, a volunteer effort which she attends to monthly. It’s a program sponsored by most of the churches in St. Helens that provides free dinners to anyone willing to show up on any Tuesday or Thursday. It’s a good thing and I love her more for doing it. I help when she calls me, but I’m only allowed to scrape plates and vacuum the floor.

Anyway, after making a path through the hedge, I moved my ladder to the corner so I could remove the downspout. I’d already made the necessary trip to ACE for the parts I needed, and was rewarded with a chance to see Brother Jack. We had a nice talk. It’s always good to see him.

Back home, I used my non-electric hack saw to construct a replacement downspout using two 45 degree elbows instead of the offending 90’s. It just made more sense to me. I only glued part of it together so I can make changes without a saw after I see how it handles the next rain, whenever that will be.

It’s been a while since we’ve had any moisture here. The one we were supposed to get turned in to Tropical Storm Flossie which went to Hawaii instead. Don’t blame it. I’d go to Hawaii instead, too. It’s really nice over there. We lived there for the last three years of the 1980’s.

Gutter … I got the hose fired up and ran it in the gutter for a while to see what would happen. Like, would all the water run to the other end of the gutter, and just stay there, or would it actually drain? I suppose I could have used my level to see which direction it leaned, but that would have been too easy. Besides, I didn’t think about that until just now. So, it’s a moot point, because the water actually ran the correct direction and emptied the gutter quite nicely. I’m a proud little downspout builder, by golly.

Now I must drive my lawnmower to the front yard, pulling my little trailer, and fill it “with all that crap” I cut down. It’s going to take a little while but I still have a couple of hours before Diane gets home. If it looks like I won’t make it, I’ll get my shop vac out there and put it on ‘blow’ instead of ‘suck’ and shove all the small debris back under the hedge. That actually won’t do any good because the hedge is just sticks for about the first 3 feet from the ground.

Maybe I should just cut it down. That would solve some problems, and create more, no doubt. But, I am unsupervised which means I can do whatever I want as long as I’m willing to accept proper punishment for those things that I do which are forbidden, even though I don’t necessarily know what they might be. It’s like the law, you know. Ignorance is no defense when you break it.

I better get busy.

Banished !

Posted on July 29, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

The Bachelorette is on so I’ve been sequestered in my room. I’m not allowed to watch it because apparently I ask too many questions and make rude comments that are not acceptable. So, here I sit, typing away, while Zero Hour plays behind me. It’s on the DVR, but I let it run through the commercials anyway so I can add to this. Also, some of the commercials are as entertaining as the shows they sponsor. Some are even better. Zero Hour is one of the three shows I’m allowed to record. I don’t remember what the other two are, so they must not be very memorable.

Since I cannot discuss The Bachelorette with someone in person, I’ll do it vicariously with all of you. I do this with the full knowledge that I will pay dearly for this transgression because that show is one of my beloved’s favorites. A very close second, perhaps an equal, is The Bachelor, an equally interesting piece of work. Diane gets upset when I mock the shows, but I can’t help myself. I know it’s wrong, and not nice, but ‘things’ just leap out of my mouth without provocation. It’s there and gone before I’m able to get control of myself. Then, it’s just too late and I’m in trouble again.

Seriously – why don’t the two TV shows just get together and let The Bachelor and The Bachelorette go on 25 dates all around the world, and see what happens. Whats the worst that could happen if ABC picks your mate? True, doing that would eliminate all the drama, and back stabbing that goes on, but it would simplify things a great deal, don’t you think?

In my humble opinion, both shows are designed to promote promiscuity in a positive light. Seriously, now. One girl going on test dates with 25 willing guys? Or one guy doing the same with an equal number of willing women? C’mon! When that happens in real life the man is tagged as a no good Lothario, and the girls are tagged as loose and wanton. Of course there is no video evidence that romantic aspects of their dates go beyond heavy petting, but the cameras aren’t around all the time, are they?

All of this is sanctioned, by a great deal of society that objects to all the sex promoted on TV, during prime time.

Really?

Still, I admit it’s interesting to see where they get sent, all in the name of searching for Love. TV seems like a poor venue for finding true love as the world watches.

OK – my mini-rant is over. I didn’t mean any of that stuff. What I said is all lies. I made it up.

Personally, I’m perfectly happy that I was able to find my true love the old fashion way using a lot of time and patience. More than you can cram into one season of a TV show. I literally waited years for Diane to figure out I was ‘the one’. It was either that, or she just got tired of living in Oregon, wanted to see the world, and I was her ticket out. I don’t believe that, of course. I was just persistent and waited.

Now I’ll quit.

Truly, if I was even a little bit semi-smart, I’d just erase this and call it good.

But, I’m not, so I won’t, so there.

My Eyeballs

Posted on July 29, 2013 by Jerrie Cate

First, the cherry pie last night was wonderful. I was allowed to dip the ice cream which made it even better. The pie was still warm from the 2-hour cool down period so we timed it just perfectly.

So, I went to the VA again this morning. Not as early as last time, and I didn’t go alone. As most of you already know, I’m not allowed to drive long distances from the house because Diane isn’t sure I’ll find my way back. As a result, I’ve learned to be a good passenger. A really good one. I think I’m past the phase where I thought it was OK to say stuff, like “if I was following that close, you’d be yelling at me.” Or, “if I was driving, I would have turned back there. It’s shorter.” Or, “you cut that corner awful close back there.” I’ve learned that saying things like that create more situations for someone to be mean to you.

Just saying’ …

The VA optometry department uses young students to do all the hard work figuring out if your eyeballs are properly aligned, configured, and up to date. Then they go get a real doctor to check the results and he does it again. All of the students are female Asian people, as far as I can tell. That isn’t a racial issue, just an observation. Whenever I am attended by anyone at the VA, for anything, I always ask them if they love their job. Most of the time I’m greeted with an excited “yes”, but today it was more of a non-comment. She was serious about her tasks, and suspect she did them well, but I could tell they weren’t tasks she was thrilled to be doing. Being prudent, like I am, I didn’t press the issue. She was, after all, fiddling around with my eyes and I don’t have spares. So, I just sat back and obeyed her every command.

The first thing she did, once I was seated in her exam chair, was have me read the bottom lines of her eye charts which were behind me, but reflected on a mirror on a far wall in front of me. Tricky. The letters should have been backwards, but they weren’t. I could read them just fine. After that was done she searched around on her desk until she found the absolutely brightest light she had which she began shining into one eye, then the other. I think she had already put some drops into my eye, but can’t remember. At that point, I was consumed with the light. I have to admit that the residual image it left was a pretty green circle that turned blue when I blinked. Very festive. The lights took about half an hour, then she put the dilating drops into my eyes and sent me to the waiting room to let them work for a while. I waited patiently, playing Sudoku on my iPad, and looking for a new book. I just finished James Rollins “Bloodline”. A fun read because lots of stuff blows up.

When she called me back to the chair, my eyes must have been mostly black because they were sucking in all the light they could find. I’m sure I could see in the dark about then. Very little light was required. So, what does she do? She breaks out and even brighter light and went through all the tests again – look up, look down, look left, look right, look right and down, look left and up, look right and up, look left and down. Just like that, over and over. At one point she changed it up on me and held her hand in front of her chest and commanded me to look there. I did, but I gotta tell ya, there’s not a lot to see when they’re wearing lab coats.

Finally, it was done and she went to get the real doctor who, as I already related, did the tests again, but in a more brief fashion. I think he was just spot checking the student. That’s OK. They need to be spot checked. While he looked, he relayed information to the student who typed it into my record, kind of like a dentist does only she had pictures of eyeballs, not teeth. Then he gave me the good news that my eyes looked healthy and there isn’t any evidence of a diabetic problem which means I can increase my candy intake right away. He also told me that the retina in my left eye has some wrinkles in it that will go away if I make more of an effort to keep my eyes wide open at all times, when not sleeping. That’s a lie, of course. Wrinkles happen. I’ve got wrinkles all over, so why not on my retina? Actually, I already knew this from the last visit. It’s no worse, it’s just not something that’s going to go away. Also, I don’t need new glasses because my prescription hasn’t changed. Exciting stuff.

I was finally released after about 1.5 hours and called Diane to come and get me. Before the appointment she dumped me out front and rushed off to the closest Goodwill store seeking ‘things’ she didn’t know she needed. It’s actually good exercise for her because she walks all over the store the entire time, hanging on to her cart into which she tosses random items which she will re-evaluate before hitting the checkout stand. She just grabs stuff before anyone else can get it on the off-chance it might be something useful. Normally it is. And, she has a good time.

She said she’d be around in 10 minutes so I waited a few, then took my dilated eyes outside into the bright sunshine. Just as soon as I went out the front door I figured my eyes were dilated to about 8 cm because my water broke and ran down my face. This happened even though I was wearing a pair of those slip behind your glasses fake sunglasses. It helped, but not enough. Still, I toughed it out and walked up the sidewalk to a point where I knew Diane would see me when she arrived. I knew she would, because I did that one other visit and she drove right past me. Boy. did I give a talking to that I’ll regret forever! It was educational because I was able to visualize my boundaries and talking points more clearly once she was done explaining things to me. Because of that, I knew she would remember, as did I.

Even though my eyes have been certified to be OK, and will last for many years with proper care, I intend to continue practicing braille when possible. I’m going down to DMV tomorrow and see if they can give me a braille version of their manual so I can study for my test next year. If they don’t have one, I’m calling the ACLU, by golly.

The trip home was uneventful. No one tried to run over us. Unusual for Highway 30, but a pleasant change.

Once home we were both very hungry. I was hungry during my test. I knew this because my stomach made various kinds of gurgling noises throughout all the left, right directions. It didn’t ruffle the student at all, but I wonder what she would have done had I farted, as I wanted to do. Repressing my flatulent nature probably contributed to the gurgling. Normally, I don’t repress farts because it is my firm belief if farts are withheld repeatedly, they eventually turn into burps that taste like crap. Thinking about that reminds me of a saying I heard somewhere, that when you’re kissing someone, you’re just sucking on a 30′ tube that’s half full of crap. Kinda takes the romance out of it, doesn’t it?

For lunch Diane and I had custom nachos – I made the bite-sized ones for both of us. They are really good. For dessert we each ate another piece of cherry pie with ice cream. Just when I was settling into a semi-slumber mode, the dogs started barking because Jennie and Jeran showed up for a visit. It’s always good to see them. Actually, Ozzie’s the only one who barks – Panzee kinda talks to those she knows. Unless it’s a cat. Or another dog. Or a deer.

Changing gears, here are some totally unrelated pictures you may enjoy.

Ozzie on guard in the geraniums – he thinks he’s blending in.