Memorial Day

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This morning I had my iPad alarm set for 0615, but woke up at 0515 when my internal alarm went off. I actually got up to ensure I didn’t fall asleep and miss my obligation.

As I mentioned yesterday, I was hoping to get some young people to help me out with placing flags around town and was very surprised when four of them signed up – Lydia and her friend Alyssa, and Cedric and his friend Stephen. Two 14-year-olds, and two 15-year-olds. All four were extremely responsible and helpful so we were done in short order.

Then, as promised, we went to Sunshine Pizza for breakfast which cost me $28. Not bad, really, for 5 heavy eaters. Well, 4 heavy eaters, and me.

The rest of this day was devoted to absolutely nothing except watching movies, eating, and lying around in our jammies. We do, however, always honor our veterans who scarificed everything so we could do this.

Because of our history, we both have strong personal connections to all veterans. We reconnect to those feelings each time we find an opportunity to visit a military base. Diane especially likes the ones where she can hear the sound of fighter jets flying around, or where she can get really close to a Navy ship. I admit, it’s impressive and reassuring.

Although it’s only 1240 I deem this day to be done. Lunch is cooking, a really bad movie is on, and I’m stuck to the recliner until supper, then bed. There will be one short break this evening in order to move garbage and recycle containers to the street for tomorrow’s pickup.

Done.

Memorial Day Weekend 201

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This morning I turned the tails on the dogs by getting up at 0500. They weren’t ready for their day, but I made them get up anyway, and go outside, in the cold and wet … it’s 45 degrees. Really chilly on bare feet, which all dogs have.

After I finish my Tillamook Marionberry Yogurt I plan to hunker down and continue reading Dan Brown’s “Inferno” which I broke down and purchased for my iPad. Knowing that I will be overcome with weariness from all this morning exertion, I plan to test my inner alarm clock to see if it will wake me in time to be at Bethany Memorial Cemetery by 1000 so I can help place flags for veterans, as we did yesterday. I suspect Diane will be up by that time, however, which will defeat my inner clock and spoil the experiment. We shall see.

Thursday

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Thursday was a little fuzzy for me, but I do remember that we went to Costco about noonish, and didn’t get home until well after the time the dogs expected us. They always do that, though, making us feel guilty for leaving them alone. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. It’s like they thought we may never return. I suppose that probably isn’t a bad way to be because, truly, we really don’t know if we’ll return. Anything can happen on Highway 30.

Before we left for Costco I barely had enough time to work on the headboard, which is becoming a vocation, after getting up from my morning nap. Still, I got it stripped of the acrylic finish I so laboriously applied, multiple times, hoping it would get darker. But, it didn’t so I removed it and started prepping the wood for stain. Red mahagony is the choice.

We went to bed at a reasonable time and I thought, like I always do, that I got a good rest. The dogs went out at 0610 and returned at 0613, primed fore their morning pouch and canned food. I swear, they live only for that moment. That, and the evening trip out when they get their treats for being such good puppies. They know they get extra treats if they bring the cat back in with them, so I’m sure they make sure she’s on the back porch before alerting me they are back.

After they we properly fed, and the cat went out, the recliner beckoned me. I was allowed to lanquish there until about 0800 when the cat decided it was time to return. She lets us know she’s on the wrong side of the door by frantically scratching on the patio door glass with both hands. It’s an awful sound, similar to fingernails on a blackboard, so she gets prompt attention.

Then I went back to the recliner until Diane got up at about 0947. When I heard her stirring, I got up and made the coffee. I only got in trouble twice before going to the garage to work on the headboard some more.

Now it’s 1530, almost, the headboard has been stained twice, I have confirmation it’s closer to the correct color, and I need to get ready to join my American Legion friends to place flags on the graves of veterans at the Yankton Cemetery. Seems like we just did that a couple of weeks ago for last Memorial Day.

It was a ho-hum day with the exception of lunch. Diane made taco soup using the leftover taco meat. Like normal, she found a recipe then ad-libbed for the ingredients she didn’t have. She ad-libs extremely well, and it’s always good.

Now I have 10 minutes to get to Yankton.

If you are travelling this weekend, stay safe. If you have a choice about travelling, stay home.

Life In The Ozone

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Greetings Earth people. I come in peace to render a report from your faithful minion, Jerrie Somethingorother, whom we borrowed for a short period of time to conduct experiments crucial to our need to dominate all species on earth of the classification Chromista and below. The purpose of our experiments is to develop a new life form, though no one on the team seems to know why, so I cannot divulge that information. Most of us surmise that our leader, Krrooggllee, had a brain fart that infiltrated his need for attention and dreamt this up as a way of appeasing that particular fart. It happens.

At the exact moment this fart occurred, teams of investigators were roaming about in a small town near a river and not far from the ocean, our very favorite place, and were instructed to execute a short-term lease on the first semi-erect being they encountered. Negotiating short-term leases must commence immediately upon receipt by all teams and the winning team gets to plant a patch of ding dong bushes and spend 3.25 days at the beach.

So, it’s a race, if you will.

Fortunately, Roodee, on Team 19, for lack of a better description which you just wouldn’t understand at all, swiveled his eyes to the right at that exact moment and spied Jerrie, who was on his knees making rapid back and forth motions with a small tool for which we have no name. He appeared to be removing the skin from a prone, inanimate life form which we later discovered was a headboard, something about which we knew nothing at the time. Having since been provided a meaning for such a device we still do not understand the need for such a life form. Whatever. Earth people amuse us.

Anyway, Roodee spied Jerrie out of the passenger window of the team’s bright gray 1995 Toyota celica undercover vehicle, which is used by all teams, and initially discarded him as a choice since he wasn’t erect at the time, kneeling as he was, but, before Roodee looked away Jerrie stood, more than fulfilling our need for a semi-erect being. Therefore, he was lassoed with one of our snagger things and delivered to our research ship post haste.

Once aboard, and connected to all our electromechanical gizmos, we learned about the headboard and that he was situated on his knees in the garage, removing the plastic coating he had previously applied because it “wasn’t dark enough”, according to his spousal unit.  All we could get from him regarding the tool was that it’s a ‘painter’s tools’ which makes no sense because he was obviously ‘scraping’ the headboard. It did, however, seem to be working nicely causing us to rethink our current compulsion to have a specific tool for every specific task. Needless to say, wanting to be ready for anything, our tool bags are enormous and must be placed in a trailer behind the celica. We can fix anything with the tools in our trailers.

We learned that another reason he was in the garage, in the cold, is because the headboard is too heavy for him to move to the basement by himself. We offered to help but he just stood there and peed down his leg, intimidated, no doubt, by our clever disguises which make us look like dogs, man’s best friends. We hadn’t, at that time, arrived at the conclusion that dogs don’t drive and have since altered our appearances to mimic that of little old men and women which are far less intimidating than very large dogs. As an aside, Roodee was garbed as a frolicky Terrier, Hooser was a non-shedding Poodle, Garment was a Retriever of some sort, and our driver, Zimlot, was a mixed breed of all three which we liked but he apparently created a very frightful appearance to Jerrie.

We interrogated Jerrie for 17 hours, gathering all sorts of useful information, then sent him back in time to his garage with no memory of what had happened, but with all manner of monitoring devices on him allowing us to see, hear, feel, and taste everything as if we were there.

He was returned to the garage about noonish, a new word we learned, so he quit his task and went into the house to make a snazzy nacho lunch. We really liked it and plan to add this tasty treat to our synthesizer memory for future delightful snacks, as soon as we can figure out what’s in it.

After lunch he urged two dogs to exit the domicile, and into the yard in order to fertilize specific areas of the yard. When they returned, he departed his domicile.

His first stop was at a large metal box, a shipping container, near the St. Helens High School that is used by local citizens to rid themselves of their discarded newspapers, and for students to dump their garbage. The purpose of the stop was to straighten up the donations and remove the garbage. There is similar box located in the Wal*Mart parking lot that does not get as much garbage.

Then he proceeded to a location between St. Helens and Scappoose to visit The Twins, whose names we learned are Eva and Evelyn. Eva desired assistance with her computer and printer which Jerrie, for reasons that are not apparent to us, knows how to do. Jerrie’s emotions revealed that he always enjoys visiting The Twins, old high school classmates, and he’s glad he can help with their electronical needs. Now he has to return and retrieve his favorite Navy baseball hat.

He returned to his abode where he languished for an hour before he had to return to Warren where he was to preside over a meeting of church elders. They call it a council. We understand the concept of having a council that oversees “things” but we are mystified why it is that Jerrie was chosen to preside. After giving it much thought, our conclusion is that no one else wanted to do it and he’s used to abuse, so he volunteered.

During the meeting Jerrie’s spousal unit texted him, on a nifty device he carries around in his pocket, to report she wouldn’t be arriving home until after 10 pm because they had so many ballots to process. Not knowing what ballots were, at the time, we thought it had something to do with procreation, and just skipped over to something more interesting.

Jerrie arrived home at approximately 9 pm thinking he only had one hour to spend alone in the dark. Apparently there is a rule that Jerrie isn’t allowed to do anything when home alone except attempt to organize words in a meaningful manner on his computer. He did that for a short time then began assembling a puzzle on his computer which we found to be absolutely fascinating! We do not understand the concept of puzzles yet, but we will soon because we’re positive he will do it again.

The spousal unit didn’t return until after 11pm. She was tired and anxious to learn who won Dancing With The Stars before she went to bed. Jerrie, not knowing she was checking those results on her computer was startled when she let out a yell to honor America’s decision to bless Kellie and Derek with the mirror ball. Having monitored earth for many years we know about Dancing With The Stars and each have our own secret favorite. Since we are not allowed to cheer about anything, we silently urge our favorites to win. Mine, incidentally, was also Kellie and Derek. After Jerrie recovered from the sharp exhalation of air from the spousal unit’s breathing apparatus, I discovered that he, too, was a Kellie and Derek fan. Knowing that made me want to be nicer to him so I let him go to bed.

Yesterday Revised

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This morning, after my post banana/coffee/yogurt (PBCY) nap, I awoke to Diane scurrying around in a rush to get out of the house so she could arrive at the courthouse on time, by 1000. I’m not allowed to accompany her because I’ve never been invited to join the austere power group to which she belongs. This group sits around a table and counts ballots, as I’ve mentioned before. They are all rational, honest people so there’s no danger of anyone tampering with the results. It is what it is. Today she took her own sandwich in a plastic lunch container.

She wouldn’t let me put her name on it.

Now, about yesterday … I covered most of the topics, but didn’t get to the really important ‘stuff’ before hearing the news about Oklahoma. That kinda took the wind out of my sails, so to speak, making me swerve from my task. So, using notes and direction from my editor, Diane, I submit the following version of yesterday’s entry, which is rare because I typically do not edit anything before hitting “Send”. Yes, it gets me in trouble sometimes but I take great efforts to not offend anyone, especially Diane. She may think that I do the ‘wife bash’ once in a while, but everything I tell is the truth, the way I see it, unless it’s an opinion, in which case it doesn’t count. To fully understand the nature of the beast in my head you’d have to walk a mile peeking out through my eyeballs, and listening to the distorted conversations that creep into my ears. Then you’d know …

From now on, pretend that I wrote the following yesterday, at then end of a day that was personally very nice … changes will be in bold …

Begin

Today was just great even though the dogs got me up at 0530. Not only did they NOT check their calendars, I think they aren’t really using the clock any more. Instead they’re basing their urinary needs on how light it is outside. And today? I mean, c’mon, it’s my birthday, for crime-inny sakes. I was supposed to sleep in today. But, in reviewing my past behavior with regard to getting up, ans staying up, I have to admit I haven’t done well. Too many morning naps.

Not today. Nope. I got up at 0530 and stayed up because I knew if I attempted a nap I would have missed a perfect opportunity to go out and golf really bad. I read my book for 3 hours to stay awake until it was time to head for the golf course. I was very quiet the entire time to ensure I didn’t wake Diane. When it was time for me to leave, I tiptoed to the bedroom and stubbed my left big toe, on the step Diane needs to get into bed, when I leaned over to kiss her bye. Even though I suppressed the pain, she let me know she was, thankfully, already awake. Then she said, “you know that step is there but you always do that,” and it’s true. I always stub my toe on it. I don’t want to stand on it because it makes me too high to safely lean over and administer the good-bye kiss, creating a tense situation where I might lose my balance and fall on her, a sure way to wake her in a very dramatic way, which I have done more than once. One’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t one? Well, I pride myself on consistency in my life, and stubbing my toe has just become a routine thing I do. My toe is almost totally numb all the time, but I always seem to whack the part that still has feeling. Perhaps I should just bite the bullet and take my chances by standing on it. It’s only 3 inches high.

Go figure.

About golfing … I golfed with JR, Doug, and Lyle. JR and Doug are brothers, and Lyle is part American Indian so goes by the nickname “Chief”. That’s what he writes on all his golf balls, in really big red letters. I found one of them a few months back, while digging around in the tall grass looking for one of the many balls I’ve lost. Or maybe it was in one of the forests that I usually frequent while golfing. I carried that ball around in my pocket for a few holes today before giving it back to him. He was happy so that made me happy. Considering Lyle’s nickname, I’m sure you’ve surmised that he isn’t one of the American Indians who gets all hung up on names. He’s a great guy.

Of the four, I was the worst, but I had far more fun than any of them. I always do. They all work at getting a lower score. Not me. I have a 37 handicap and work hard to maintain it.

After leaving the golf course, I stopped by to see Don, Diane’s cousin. He’s a master mechanic who builds and races stock cars. He’s done that almost his entire life. When I need mechanical assistance, he’s my guy. My key to stopping is checking to see if the door is open on his shop. Today it was. In the doorway he had this incredibly beautiful new engine hanging on a chain dangling from one of the forks on his forklift. The engine looked like it was right off the assembly line and the guy who built it was right there with Don. While admiring this work of art, which is going into Don’s nephew’s, Johnathan’s, race car, I turned around and whacked my head on the unfettered fork. It made a mark on my bright yellow Oregon Duck hat, and a small bump on my head, but I didn’t fall down.

Don’s not as tall as I am so didn’t have to put the forks up high enough for me to walk under. In all fairness, too, he had no idea I was stopping by. Had he, I’m sure he would have raised it a little more.

Once home, Diane got busy cooking me a BLT sandwich. I love those things. I love anything that has bacon in it. Heck, I just love bacon. I’d eat bacon wrapped bacon bits if Diane would let me. While Diane was working hard to fix me a nutritious birthday lunch, Jack called and requested permission to drop by the house. 

“Hi, are you home?” a valid question since he called my cell phone.

“Yes, Diane’s just cooking me a sandwich.”

“Normally, sandwiches aren’t cooked,” he replied.

“She’s making me a BLT,”  explained.

“Oh. Then it’s not really cooked. Just parts of it are cooked and put INTO the sandwich.”

“True,” I said. “Would you like one?” I retorted.

“No. Just checking to see if you’re going to be around for a bit so Wynette and I could stop by for a minute or two.” He always says that, but they always stay longer, and that’s OK. We love seeing them.

When they arrived they were bearing a large bag which concerned me because I was sure it was a gift for my birthday which means I’ll have to reciprocate next December for Jack’s. I don’t do gifts very well because I always forget to get them. I was about halfway through my sandwich when they got there and couldn’t stop because I was holding it with my special compression grip that keeps it all together. If I laid it on my plate it would decompress and I’d have to eat it with a fork. There’s almost nothing worse than having to eat a BLT with a fork.

As soon as they got in the door Jack handed me this …

DSC_5539

It’s an extremely large ‘Chick Magnet’ and it really works as you can tell by the little chicks stuck to the silver part. It’s awesome and I can’t wait to wear it to church.

Then, sitting at the table with us, Wynette handed me a small heavy bag out of which was sticking a package of rare earth magnets in plastic cases for use on magnetic calendar to make special events. Immediately sensing a theme, I delved deeper into the bag and discovered all manner of magnets in various sizes and was delighted.  I believe I shared the magnet story previously, maybe six months ago or so, where Diane gave Wynette a container with all manner of things to make jewelry, which Wy is good at, in addition to a whole bunch of rare earth magnets which I didn’t know she had. I LOVE magnets, and she just summarily gave them away without consulting me which isn’t unusual because I’m not a person people usually consult, but STILL! Magnets!

I only whined about it for a little while, and usually found a way to refer to the magnets in random conversations with J&W over the months that followed. Though bringing up the magnets was not part of a strategy, it apparently became on because I got all those magnets back PLUS many more.

I was ECSTATIC! Barely able to CONTAIN myself.

I almost dropped my sandwich.

I didn’t think the day could possibly get any better as I finished my sandwich and joined Jack on the floor where we played with the magnets while the girls talked about how silly we were. They just don’t have any sense of what fun really is, so we ignored them and played away.

Eventually, the thrill dwindled down to a manageable level allowing Jack and Wynette to depart so they could complete other tasks they had planned for their day.

After lunch I took a trip to Warren to visit the Twins, Eva & Evelyn, my highschool classmates, so I could work on their computers. I got most of the things accomplished I was there to do, before having to leave to attend Lydia’s softball game at Campbell park, which is just down the hill from our house. We talk a lot about walking down to the games, but the fact that it’s uphill all the way home is a deterrent for sure. So we drive. Tonight we had a better reason to drive because we had a Lion’s International meeting at 1830, at the Village Inn.

Just before we left the house, Jim called. Unfortunately, I was in the shower at the time, Diane insisted I wash, so missed the call. Once dry and dressed, with a thin layer of Old Spice over my exposed parts, I called him back. I knew he called for my birthday, as did Jack, because that’s what we do to each other every year. I think I’m the only one who sings the song, though. Anyway, Jim and I had a great conversation as we drove down to Lydia’s game.

On the way to the Lion’s meeting we stopped at Taco Bell for my birthday supper of tacos and a dead chicken burrito. Sadly, it was a plain chicken burrito, not the supreme version which I know for sure I ordered, but I ate it because we weren’t charged for the supreme version. Even with that glitch, it was a lovely supper. We got our favorite table next to the window, right behind the trash cans, so we could watch people come and go as they got their tacos. I sensed that Diane was a bit concerned about the quality of dinner, but I love Taco Bell and didn’t mind at all. Besides, no matter where we are, no matter what we do, being together is the special part. I told her that. It’s true.

After the meeting we went back to watch the end of the 2nd game of Lydia’s double header. She pitched the first game, which they lost 10-9, then sat out the first part of the 2nd game, which we didn’t see, because her hip was hurting. The score was 10-0, when we arrived and Lyd was just going back in the game. It was brutal. She did OK, but it was evident she wasn’t comfortable. Still, she had fun, and that’s whole point of it.

After the game we came home and Diane watched Dancing With The Stars, which she loves. I even go in a watch some of the dancers. Kellie and Derek are awesome and I hope they win.

I’m leaving out the sad part about the storms swiping through the mid-west because I’m sure everyone is totally aware about what’s going on there. Once again, however, I’ll end with …

God Bless Them All

My 1st Day At 69 …

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Today was just great even though the dogs got me up at 0530. Not only did they NOT check their calendars, I think they aren’t really using the clock any more. Instead they’re basing their urinary needs on how light it is outside. And today? I mean, c’mon, it’s my birthday, for criminny sakes. I was supposed to sleep in today. But, in reviewing my past behavior with regard to getting up, ans staying up, I have to admit I haven’t done well. Too many morning naps.

Not today. Nope. I got up at 0530 and stayed up because I knew if I attempted a nap I would have missed a perfect opportunity to go out and golf really bad. I read my book for 3 hours to stay awake until it was time to head for the golf course. I was very quiet the entire time to ensure I didn’t wake Diane. When it was time for me to leave, I tiptoed to the bedroom and stubbed my left big toe on the step Diane needs to get into bed when I leaned over to kiss her bye. Even though I supressed my pain, she let me know she was. thankfully, already awake. Then she said, “you know that step is there but you always do that,” and it’s true. I always stub my toe on it. I don’t want to stand on it because it makes me too high to safely lean over and administer the good bye kiss, creating a tense situation where I might lose my balance and fall on her, a sure way to wake her in a very dramatic way, which I have done more than once. One would think I would learn, wouldn’t one? Well, I pride myself on consistency in my life, and stubbing my toe has just become a routine thing I do. My toe is almost totally numb all the time, but I always seem to whack the part that still has feeling.

Go figure.

About golfing … I golfed with JR, Doug, and Lyle. JR and Doug are brothers, and Lyle is part American Indian so goes by the nickname “Chief”. That’s what he writes on all his golf balls, in really big red letters. I found one of them a few months back, while digging around in the tall grass looking for my ball. Or maybe it was in one of the forests that I usually frequent while golfing. I carried that ball around in my pocket for a few holes today before giving it back to him. He was happy so that made me happy. Considering Lyle’s nickname, I’m sure you’ve surmised that he isn’t one of the American Indians who gets all hung up on names. He’s a great guy.

Of the four, I was the worst, but I had far more fun than any of them. I always do. They all work at getting a lower score. Not me. I have a 37 handicap and work hard to maintain it.

After leaving the golf course, I stopped by to see Don, Diane’s cousin. He’s a master mechanic who builds and races stock cars. He’s done that almost his entire life. When I need mechanical assistance, he’s my guy. My key to stopping is checking to see if the door is open on his shop. Today it was. In the doorway he had this incredibly beautiful new engine hanging on a chain dangling from one of the forks on his forklift. The engine looked like it was right off the assembly line and the guy who built it was right there with Don. While admiring this work of art, which is going into Don’s nephew’s, Johnathan’s, race car, I turned around and whacked my head on the unfettered fork. It made a mark on my bright yellow Oregon Duck hat, and a small bump on my head, but I didn’t fall down.

Don’s not as tall as I am so didn’t have to put the forks up high enough for me to walk under. In all fairness, too, he had no idea I was stopping by. Had he, I’m sure he would have raised it a little more.

Once home, Diane cooked me a BLT sandwich. I love those things. I love anything that has bacon in it. Heck, I just love bacon. I’d eat bacon wrapped bacon bits if Diane would let me.

After lunch I took a trip to Warren to visit the Twins, my highschool classmates, so I could work on computers for them. I got most of the things accomplished I was there to do, before having to leave to attend Lydia’s softball game at Campbell park, which is just down the hill from our house. We talk a lot about walking down to the games, but the fact that it’s uphill all the way home is a deterrent for sure. So we drive. Tonight we had a better reason to drive because we had a Lion’s International meeting at 1830, at the Village Inn.

After that meeting we went back to watch the end of the 2nd game of Lydia’s double header. She pitched the first game, which they lost 10-9, then sat out the first part of the 2nd game, which we didn’t see, because her hip was hurting. The score was 10-0, them, when we arrived and Lyd was going back in the game. It was brutal. She did OK, but it was evident she wasn’t comfortable. Still, she had fun, and that’s good.

After the game we came home and Diane watched Dancing With The Stars, which she loves. I even go in a watch some of the dancers. Kelly and Derick are awesome.

During that show it was brought to our attention that Moore, Oklahoma was hit by an incredibly huge, vicious, and deadly tornado.

Since I had this almost done when we learned of the destruction, and loss of life, I will leave the frivolous beginnings, but end on a somber note, asking that you pray for the people of Moore, and anyone one else who has experienced loss due to the continuing storms throughout the Mid West. At this time the count is 91 dead, and the search continues. Not a good ending to what was a wonderful day for us.

God Bless Them All

68 for the last time …

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A few days ago I decided to start parting my hair, now that’s it’s grown back, on the right side instead of the left. I wanted everyone to think I was left-handed now. Oddly, parting it on the left side, as most right-handed people do, required me to use my left hand, and the opposite is true for parting it on the right side.

Doesn’t matter, I guess, because no one noticed. I’m just a transparent human shaped object. People walk around me without realizing I’m there. I’ve therefore decided that I’m at least mostly invisible, as long as I don’t talk, make loud noises, or move too quickly.

Today started out looking pretty grim, but ended with warmth and sunshine. Tomorrow is supposed to be the nicest day of the week so I’m going golfing for the first time in a while. Doug called to invite me and Diane said I could go. I’ll let you know how I did, but I’ll probably lie about it.

We went to church, like normal for Sunday, taking Diane’s Mom, Jean. Since today was the last day for Sunday School for the duration of Summer, the kids hosted our coffee hour. So, before lunch, I had a rootbeer float. I coulda had an orange float, but declined.

On the way home, Diane drove through a random fast food drive thru and ordered a large container of dead chicken for lunch. She got mashed potatoes and coleslaw, too. And biscuits with honey. The container held 2 drumsticks, 2 wings, two thighs, and two bresatesses. Diane got the drumsticks, Mom got the wings, and I got the thighs. The breastesses went home with Mom a short while ago. We’ll never see them again.

For dessert, Diane baked a cherry pie. It was totally awesome. Since it’s my Birthday Pie, I made a semi-complaint that it didn’t have a candle on it. She retorted, saying that tomorrow she’s going to put a candle on eveything I eat. I don’t see how that’s possible because I’m pretty sure we don’t have enough candles to handle the bowl of cheerios I plan to eat in the morning. PLUS, she won’t even be up before I leave, I bet. And that’s OK because she’s earned the right to sleep as long as she wants because both the cat and our little fake dog sleep on her bed ensuring that she remains in one position all night. At the appointed time, each morning, they wake me to let them out, allowing Diane freedom to relax and actually rest.

Don’t forget to ask me how well I golfed. Since I’m going to lie about it anyway, I could tell you how awesome I am now, but that would ruin it.

Tomorrow, about this same time, life insurance, if decided to get some, will be impossibly expensive because I’ll no longer be 68.

Now I’m going to go eat redvines until it’s time for bed.

Little Bitty Nachos

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Diane found some hamburger in one of our freezers and couldn’t determine how long we’ve had it. So, as she always does with this kind of meat, of unknown origin, she made taco meat. It gets well cooked and the taco seasoning kills whatever might be lurking in the meat at a level not noticeable by the naked eye, or naked nose.

I was working in the garage, sanding then staining our headboard, so my nose was plugged with little tiny bits of pulverized wood, but when I entered the house the aroma of taco meat wafted into my nostrils and it was good. Made me hungry. Thankfully I was done when the meat was done so I went to take a shower so I could eat without being told that my deodorant quit.

It takes me a long time to clean up, so Diane didn’t wait. She was finishing her nachos by the time I arrived to fix mine so there was no hurry for me to fix mine and hers at the same time. I can do it, but having to focus on only one plate simplified things a great deal for me. It allowed me to get a little creative and I made this …

DSC_5530

 

I used dipper chips, instead of regular corn chips. I put a little meat on each chip, then some cheese on each chip, then started heating each on of them individually for 10 seconds. That proved to be very time-consuming so changed tactics and heated all 20 of them at once for 40 seconds. That worked. Then I dabbed a little guacamole and sour cream on each dipper and sat down to eat.

Diane made fun of me and suggested I take this picture to share. I prefer this method of making nachos because it’s lots less messy to eat. Just pick up one dipper at a time and you don’t salsa all over the place.

Had I remembered to add salsa, that may still have been a problem, but Diane didn’t leave that on the counter for me to use.

I don’t know whether to call these dipchos or nachippers.

Voting & Ballot Counters

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I know this person who is essential to successful elections in Columbia County Oregon. I’ve known this person a long time and this person, and her semi-sister-in-law, are vital to the successful completion of any ballot issues submitted to Columbia Counter voters for resolution.

The group of people surrounding this person, and her SSIL, are very supportive of them, allowing them to return for all the voting events. Actually, they insist they return for all the events. It makes me wonder if they are the only two who can count. I know that’s not true, of course.

This person went to count ballots today and I was required to make and deliver lunch at precisely 12:30 pm. With that clue you have no doubt surmised that you probably know this person, too. You do. It’s Jack’s first wife’s brother-in-law’s first wife. That’s a true statement.

I put the lunch, consiting of a tuna sandwich, chips, cheese, a cookie, apple juice, and a little note, into a small paper lunch bag on which I wrote her entire name in purple crayon so no one could steal it.

It either worked, or ballot counters are simply honest people.

Let’s hope so.

The bag was returned to the house once this person … oh, heck! It’s Diane. You know that, so no more pretense …

Here’s the bag. I covered her last name because I don’t use last names here and also so those who are unaware won’t know who she really is. The nose is for Nelda …

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Yes, She Snores …

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… but the sound she makes is that of a hovering hummingbird sipping nectar from a honeysuckle blossom. It’s a quiet, peaceful sound that makes me smile because she will deny that she snores.

So, this is just between me and you …