Wheeezie The RV

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Today’s word is “Fix The Turn Signal Thingie” on the RV. OK, that’s really five words, but it’s only one task that involves a whole bunch of steps. After Diane left me alone, again, this morning, to take her Mom, Jean, to quilting, at the church, I followed orders and got busy. I  studied and studied the steering column, and removed a bunch of bolts holding it all together, but had to wait for Diane to return so I would have a ride to NAPA to get a new tool to pull the steering wheel off. I was actually allowed to go to NAPA by myself, in Diane’s car, so I went real slow to ensure I didn’t bruise it in any way. I got the tool for a bargain $9.85, returned home, pulled the steering wheel off, and totally dismantled everything I could find under the steering wheel. Now I need to go back to NAPA, tomorrow, and get a new blinker and wiring harness then figure out how to get it all back together without having any parts left over, or running out of parts before I’m done. I’m very confident I can do it. I tear stuff apart all the time and always manage to get it all back together. It’s a knack I have. They don’t always work right, but I get them back together.

I also fixed the clearance lights on the RV. That should count for extra credit.

Tonight was Taco Thursday at the Moose Lodge in Warren. I took Dan, Cedric, Lydia, and Jeran with me. I wasn’t going to eat, but it looked good so I had two hard shell tacos. They were only $1.50 each and two was way more than I could eat, but I did anyway. They are very generous with the food at the Moose Lodge. A plus this evening was I got to visit with Doug and Caroline while we ate. They never miss Taco Thursday. Tonight was special for another reason for me because it was the first time I had a chance to use my newly acquired key card for the lodge. Turns out I didn’t have enough knowledge to make it work until I visited with Doug. Now I have the proper education that will allow me entrance any time I want.

Now I’m home and that’s really good because it’s cold outside. It was cold inside, too, until I cranked up the heat a couple of degrees.

All that’s on the news right now is the autopsy report on Whitney Houston. Apparently that’s something everyone else in the world is really wanting to know about. The most shocking fact, we’re told, is that there’s evidence the Whitney had breast implants! OMG! I’m totally shocked! I mean, that just totally shatters all the good things I thought about her but, wait a minute. Isn’t it, like, a requirement that everyone in the entertainment industry, that wears a dress, must have breast implants. Seems to me the shocker would be that she didn’t have bigger hooters than what God gave her. Personally, I think they should just leave her alone. There’s way more important “stuff” going on in the world to consider.

It’s early, but I’m going to quit. Diane just came in the computer room to watch the pilot for “Missing”. We have two other episodes recorded, but she needs to see the pilot first. So, I queued it up on HULU for her to watch on her computer.

It’s Wednesday, Again …

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Good afternoon. I’m finally getting into retirement mode, and learning to like it more and more. The best part involves naps. Next it’s eating. Going down the list from there, in no particular order: I don’t have to take a shower until Diane tells me to; I can leave my clothes in a heap on the bedroom floor as long as Diane wants; I can leave my shoes all over the house, because Diane does too; I can stay up as late as I can stay awake, which is normally 10-ish; I don’t have to get up to an alarm clock, just the dogs; I can go do stuff in the middle of the day, during the week, with Diane’s permission; … OK, not a lot has changed. I’m still on a schedule, just not my own. Oh well, I can still take naps. Unless there’s something I have to do.

It’s cold here. Diane made me work on the RV for a while this afternoon, between rain showers, and helped me rip the awning off. It was ripped, anyway so it didn’t matter. I wound up taking off all the brackets and everything to prepare it for reinstalling with new awning material, when it gets here. That should be Friday, according to Diane’s favorite eBay site. They’re never wrong. I’m not being facetious, here, because we’ve made some really good deals on eBay, for things we actually needed. Really. We don’t go to the eBay just for fun. No sir, not us. Well, not me, anyway.

This morning I woke up with really sore arms and couldn’t figure out why right away. I just thought it was one more thing I’d have to learn to live with every day. But, I finally determined it was just the results of catching Lydia’s pitches for over an hour last night. I did pretty good, but it’s not an old man’s job. Even so, I enjoyed doing it, and I’ll do it again. For sure. Besides, after strenuous work like that, I’m confident Diane will find enough ‘stuff’ for me to do the next that that I’ll be able to work out the kinks petty quickly. That worked today. Now I’ll just have to deal with the new aches tomorrow morning.

I just watched a little of the news about the fake Altuzan cancer medicine that was shipped into the US. And, they charged almost $2000 a vial for it which was $400 less than the “real” manufacturer charges. Kind of unbelievable, don’t you think? I think I’ll just quit taking medicine altogether as a protest. Maybe I’ll just start my own country in the back yard where medicine isn’t needed. I can use the apple tree sticks in the burn pile to make a lean to and live there with the dogs. I think they’d like to live outside all the time. At least when it’s warm. Maybe not so much when it’s cold and raining. Or snowing. Or windy. Or if it’s really, really hot. I think I just made a case for creature comforts in the form of forced air heat and air conditioning. I’d miss my computer, too. And the big TV. And the refrigerator.

OK. I’m not starting my own country for all those reasons, and because I can’t think of a really good name for a new country in our back yard.

I think, from now on, I’m going to use this method of communication, which is mostly one way, I might add, to educate the masses, by giving them one new word every day to enhance their ability to correctly, and creatively share their thoughts with other members of the human race. To start, let’s check “ubiquitous” in Merriam-Webster’s On Line Dictionary <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

ubiq·ui·tous

adj \yü-ˈbi-kwə-təs\

Definition of UBIQUITOUS

: existing or being everywhere at the same time : constantly encountered : widespread <a ubiquitous fashion>
— ubiq·ui·tous·ly adverb
— ubiq·ui·tous·ness noun

Examples of UBIQUITOUS

  1. The company’s advertisements are ubiquitous.
  2. <by that time cell phones had become ubiquitous, and people had long ceased to be impressed by the sight of one>
  3. Hot dogs are the ideal road trip food—inexpensive, portable, ubiquitous. —Paul Lucas, Saveur, June/July 2008
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Now for comparison, here’s what the “always available for editing Wikipedia” has to say …
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Omnipresence

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia  (Redirected from Ubiquitous)
“Ubiquitous” redirects here. For other uses, see Ubiquity (disambiguation).
 Omnipresence or ubiquity is the property of being present everywhere. Divine omnipresence is thus one of the divine attributes, although in Western Christianity it has attracted less philosophical attention than such attributes as omnipotence, omniscience, or being eternal.
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It’s interesting that Wikipedia redirects to omnipresence which makes sense because the definitions are the same for both words in Webster’s.
Time to quit wasting your time because it’s eleventy pm.

Jury Selection & Softball Practice

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This morning, at 8:00am, Diane was at the County Courthouse for jury selection indoctrination. I was left home. Alone. I as instructed to sit quietly until she either called or returned. This presented a complication because I had a dentist appointment at noon and no way to get there until Jennie brought me a vehicle. I could have used the lawnmower, I suppose, but that would have made Diane cranky. So, I just sat there. Thankfully, after a couple of hours, Diane returned with groceries. Shortly after that Jennie showed up with the alternate transportation which we no longer needed because Diane was home and available to drive me  to my appointment.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here typing this because a trip to the dentist isn’t all that exciting unless they yank something out of your mouth, which they didn’t. I was just there for my cleaning. At one point, with my mouth wide open, my saliva glands spontaneously let loose and sprayed my face and my hygienists mask. Good thing she had it on, but she didn’t think anything about it. In fact, she shared with me that she and her friends used to spit on each other in that manner, when they were much younger, and they called it “gleeking”. Finding this very interesting, as I do things of this nature, I checked it out on the internet and, guess what! Gleeking is real. It’s the action of projecting saliva out of the submandibular gland upon compression by the tongue. Give it a try. Then clean the mirror.

Here’s more information from Wikipedia, and I quote:

Gleeking

Gleeking involves the mouth,tongue, and submandibular gland (#2 in diagram)

Gleeking (also gleeting, geeking, gleeping, glarfing, glitting, gleaking, glicking, glything, glanding, geezing, yanging, cobra spitting) is the projection of saliva from the submandibular gland upon compression by the tongue.[3]

In general, gleeking occurs when an accumulation of saliva in the submandibular gland is propelled out in a stream when the gland is compressed by the tongue. The stream of saliva is released in the general direction of the front of the mouth. If the mouth is open the jet may project several feet. Gleeking is more likely when the salivary gland has been recently stimulated, but even a residual amount of saliva in the gland may be released by gleeking.

Gleeking may occur spontaneously due to accidental tongue pressure on the sublingual gland while talking, eating, yawning, or cleaning the teeth. Gleeking can also be induced, for instance, by pressing the underside of the tongue against the palate, then pushing the tongue forward while simultaneously closing the lower jaw and moving it slightly forward; or by yawning deeply and pressing the tongue against the palate. Practice is usually required to induce gleeking consistently, and induction is more likely to be successful under conditions of salivary stimulation.

End Quote (actually, I copied it)

Then, this evening, Diane made me change out of my jammies, which I donned upon return from the dentist so I could rest, and eat my tacos from Taco Bell, so I could go catch pitches for Lydia at her softball practice. It was in the High School gym. Lyd, me, and her coach were the only ones there so she got some one-on-one instruction. She’s the designated pitcher on her team and will back up at 2nd base. She’s learning a new method so is having a little trouble finding her release point, but slams a hard one in about every 3rd pitch. It’s getting better and we can’t wait to watch her team play. It’s handy because they play at the field at the bottom of the hill from our house. We could walk there, but we won’t because it’s all uphill on the way home.

That’s all I have.

The Porch Cat Has A Name!

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First, I gotta tell you that I was pretty excited yesterday because 102 people viewed the blog. I had no idea I knew that many people! Then, today, 2 people from Cuba looked at it. Amazing! I wonder why … They were probably just accidents when someone clicked the wrong button.

Now, the cat. We appreciate the three suggestions we had for names – Beazus, Razor, and Oreo and had a hard time choosing. Finally, after an extended period of time in the bathroom, I decided Oreo wasn’t too bad. The only problem was it didn’t adhere to the criteria of having a “z”, or beginning with a “B”. Thankfully, that didn’t matter because Diane made the final decision by choosing “Breezie” which is is more fitting, and descriptive, because she really wasn’t a porch cat, she was a breezeway cat. What a perfect name. So, all the criteria was observed. She’s currently laying in Diane’s lap, playing with a sock monkey, watching Dancing With The Stars. I think Diane’s watching it, too.

Today was a beauty and things are good. My ditch is still draining off water from up the hill, keeping the driveway dry, Jeff returned my cutoff saw, I got all of the lawn mowed, bagged, and dumped, the cat got a name, and my cat scratch is healing nicely. So is the dog bite. Here’s what the cat looks like — kinda like a Jersey Cow, don’t you think?

Interesting thing, before I started mowing, I went to the Chevron station to get a gas can filled because I knew I’d run out before it was finished. Actually, it’s not a can because it’s plastic. It should be a gas plastic for grammatical correctness or, as Jack would say, “true speak.” Anyway, I left the gas “thing” in the driveway while I mowed the front, worked my way around the side, to the back, and was about halfway done before the mower quit. So, I walked all the way back up the hill, to the driveway, carried the “thing” to the middle of the field and filled the tank. Wore me out because it’s about a mile and a half. At least. I would have filled it before I started, which was my initial intention but something else got my attention and made me forget. I think it was when the mower started. But, I got the lawn finished just in time to get cleaned up so I wouldn’t embarrass Diane at our Lion’s Club International meeting this evening. Lyle and Ruth are Lion’s members, too, but they never show up at our meetings. Probably because they live in Connecticut. Tonight’s meeting was important to me because I was in charge of the program. It was an easy one, however, because our friend, Randy, did all the work. You can see what he does by checking out his web site: http://www.nowimthinking.com/ — what a guy! Randy is open for speaking engagements, if you’re interested.

I  just looked at the clock on my trusty computer and see that, once again, it’s 22:22. Interesting. That happened last night, too. I think it was last night. There’s something odd about recurring numbers in people’s lives, don’t you think? Maybe that should be the topic for tomorrow, unless something really interesting happens. So far all that’s on the schedule is that Diane has jury duty for a local mass murderer, and I have a dentist appointment. She always gets to do the fun stuff …

Hunger Games vs. Twilight

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I’ve decided to become a book critic, maybe even a movie critic, at least for a short time. Perhaps for just this one time only because the fact that I’m going to base my opinions solely on whether or not I like something instead of how much money they made, will be too much of a radical change to what you may be used to. It’s kind of like the price of gas and how the speculators determine what it will be. You know, if they’re running short of a little pocket change, they’ll bet the price of gas will be going up and, guess what?! The price of gas goes up! How convenient for them. I can’t recall any times that they speculate the price will go down. Then again, maybe they do which means that I just don’t know how that system really works. Which I really don’t. So, what I just did was state an opinion base solely on my dissatisfaction with the price of gas. But, you know what? When Diane and I lived in Italy from 1970-1973 the price of gas there during that time was over $3 a gallon. Now it’s about $10. That doesn’t mean what we’re paying is OK, but it kind of puts it in perspective.

Now, about being a critic …

I’ve read all the Twilight books, seen the movies, and took little note of how many zillions of $$$ they made for whoever gets that money. No one ever tells us that part. All they say is such and such movie grossed $15 gazzillion over the weekend. What does that really mean except that’s how much money theaters gathered from eager viewers to see whatever movie was playing? They, being the media, don’t mention how much it costs for any given theater for the rights to show that movie. So all the theaters combined, that were allowed to show the movie, grossed what amounts to the total worth of, say, Greece, but it’s just a number. It’s misleading. I want to know how much the 3rd Gaffer in the scene from Forks, Washington made that weekend. Or, the guy that really drove the Volvo to a squirreling stop in the Olde School parking lot in St. Helens to rescue Belle. That’s relevant data. There I go again, flying down one of the tangents that rule my life … sorry.

Twilight was about a young girl torn by her love for two totally different males. Throughout the story line she waffles back and forth between the two, finally choosing the one with the cold body.

Hunger Games is about a young girl torn by her love for two totally different males. Throughout the story line she waffles back and forth between the two, finally choosing the one … wait … have you read all three of these books, yet? Perhaps not. I’m almost done with book three and really don’t know how this part ends, so, in all honesty, the part of me you all know best, I cannot do anything except speculate beyond this point. But you get my drift, right?

The difference between the two is that in Twilight, Belle is a decent teenager forced to go live with wolves and vampires in Forks, Washington, while Hunger Games, Katniss is about a decent teenager who is forced to enter a fight to the death with 23 other folks, of various ages. I mean, how much more alike can they be? There are too many similarities, except for the death and dying in Hunger Games, to discount the possibility that they were authored by the same Apple discount store employee who is only allowed to work the night shift because no one wants to see him. Ever! So, he makes things up. First thing he makes up is to change his pen name gender from male to female, which is a really good move because the love scenes are more believable if the author is a woman. Coming from a guy author would lend one to believe he was a deviant, or a molester, or something.

So, where were we? I forget because I had to go out and look for the big black dog, Ziva. Apparently I let her and Panzee outside, when I put the cat out, and forgot. Panzee came right back, from the back yard, but Ziva is remaining incognito, running somewhere in the night in the surrounding neighborhoods. Hunting vampires. That’s what she does. So now, thanks to her, I’m in deep kimchi until she returns because I’m the one that turned the door knob. Like I can control her desire to stick around in the yard by standing on the deck with a tiny little flashlight. I admit, it seems to have worked in the past, but I don’t know how. It’s just a little thing. But, it’s really bright. Has LEDs instead of the other kind.

I’m sure everyone will be happy to learn that the ditch I dug worked like a charm during the last downpour we had. There was no standing water in the driveway like normal. It’s kinda nice and only makes me wonder why I didn’t do that a long time ago. Actually, it doesn’t make me wonder at all. That’s just something I hear often. From other people. No, that’s not true at all. I just think that’s what I’m “going” to hear from other people once they find out what a success my ditch was. Then, they’ll be wanting me to come over a dig ditches for them, even if they don’t need one.

It’s now 22:22, which means it’s late and, but the many twists and turns of the foregoing, evident that I should have quit about nine paragraphs ago. But, I have no control over how things in my brain are interpreted by my fingers. Sometimes I’m only vaguely aware that my keyboard is producing actual words. Most of the time I’m unconscious and everyone knows a person isn’t responsible for things that happen when they’re unconscious.

I mentioned that I would take a picture of the cat scratch but I don’t know where my camera is. Besides, it’s not as bad as I thought. Regarding the cat … we need a name. It’s got to have a “z” in it, an no more than two syllables. Any suggestions?

The Betty Cat is Back

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So, there I was, next to the garage, digging a ditch to drain the water out of the driveway, when Diane came out to make sure I was really working, and she looked up and said, “There she is!” Following her line of sight I saw the Betty Cat in our neighbor’s garage window. She’s been gone a week, but I’m sure she hasn’t been trapped in their garage for that long because they go somewhere every day. So, I suspect we were just being shunned for a while. Anyway, Diane’s happy because the last time she saw the Betty Cat was just before it got all stormy and she wanted in pretty badly. But, we made her stay outside. So, we both thought, perhaps, a coyote snacked her up. That’s a pretty common thing around here. Cats go missing all the time. But, she came back for a visit.

After making sure I was still working, Diane took Ziva to the vet to see what’s going on with the area around her tail. Ziva’s tail, not Diane’s. Ziva worries it all the time and has managed to remove some of the hair and make little scabby patches on her skin. Doc said she had allergic dermatitis. Probably from a flea. She said it only takes one flea bite on some animals. Ziva doesn’t have fleas so it must have been a visiting flea from some other country. They are not allowed in our house, so she must have encountered it in the back yard as the flea was passing through. Who knows? Certainly not me.

Diane went to visit her Mom, Jean, a while ago and has since returned. When she got back she decided we needed a pizza for dinner so she went back to Papa Murphey’s to get one. We really like Papa Murphey’s. She’s since returned from that trip, too. As a matter of fact, the pizza just finished cooking while we were on the porch watching a spectacular thunder storm. Lightening abounds. I tried getting a picture but my camera isn’t fast enough to do that. So, I’ll just share a picture I found on Bing…

That’s actually the picture of a lightening strike in Oregon that I could have easily took had my camera been of a better quality. But it isn’t, so I couldn’t. But, what we watched was pretty much like this. The storm didn’t last very long but it was pretty dramatic. It provided Diane a chance to ensure the ditch she made me dig worked adequately. I was pleased that it did, otherwise I would have had to go outside in the cold rain to fix it.

While Diane and Ziva were at the vet, I left the door open so the Betty Cat could enter if she wished. She did and it made Ozzie run around in circles like a … well, like a little poodle on speed. He does that a lot. Spin in circles. We think he does it when he’s happy, or excited, or needs to go outside. We’re not quite sure which it is, but he, and the big dogs, know what “Outside” means. At that word they all head for the door and Ozzie starts spinning in circles, barking with his annoying little voice.

The cat went in and out, like all cats do, and we decided she’s an outdoor cat because that’s where she appears to be most comfortable. She did come in for a while, however, and sat in my lap long enough to make Ziva a little jealous. So, Ziva jabbed her nose at the cat, daring her to do something about it, and she did. She whacked Ziva on the nose about six times in a matter of milliseconds. She’s fast. The problem was, being in my lap and all, created a situation where the cat had to secure herself in case she had to attack. meaning that her other three feet had to dig in, if you know what I mean. The end result of all that excitement was about a 3 inch gash on my right foot, which I happened to have in the chair with me. It bled severely. Sadly, the camera was too far away for me to get it before Diane covered it with bandages. It took three large ones. And it hurt, a lot.

Now it’s late and time for bed so I must quit. But, I’m in the process of printing out our church’s newsletter, which I’m forced to create each month, and can’t stop until it’s done. I would have done it earlier, but Diane made me eat pizza and watch TV with her instead. So, I’m running a little late. Actually, she didn’t make me watch TV with her. I made that up.

Tomorrow I’ll take a picture of my cat wound after the bandaids fall off in the shower. I’m sure you’ll be impressed to learn, after you see it, that I did not cry. Not once. But, I did reintroduce the cat to the porch. We were both happy about that.

Now I’m really quitting.

What Happened on March 29th?

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Thursday. Hmmmm. There is no memory of this day, yet, so I must have been unconscious all day long. Perhaps something will come to me as I scribble. If not, I’ll ask Diane because she remembers pretty much everything, especially if it’s something I screw up. Earlier today she told me that I had to start being nice to her in my blog entries, and I said if I did that I’d just have to stop writing it. She said, “No, you can’t stop,” so I’m torn as to what to write about. “Literary abuse” is the ultimate form of flattery from my point of view. That, and If I only dwelled on the really nice things she does, I’d never have enough words to document them. Or time.

I see the Idaho Cate’s summarily ripped down the tree next to their house that’s been growing there since about 1776. When we visited there, just last week, Jim mentioned that he was having it removed. He was illusive about why but I’m pretty sure his rake broke and he’s tired of picking up the leaves one at a time. So, it was either buy a new rake, or cut down the offending tree. I do not know when that happened which causes me concern because I dread sharing things about which I do not have all the correct information. That rule does not apply, however, to the things I fabricate. Since most of the stuff I share is fabricated, I guess there really is no rule. So, I’ll just tell you the tree was cut down last Tuesday. If that’s incorrect, I suspect someone will dispute it. If they don’t, it must be true.

Today Diane and I got up before the dogs for a change. I, for one, am tired of them deciding when it’s time for us to get out of bed. That, and we had to have me at the VA Medical Center in Hillsboro by 8:30 am. To do that required we leave the house by 7:00 am because it’s a work day and the weather was supposed to be horrendous this day. But, the traffic was light, and the weather wasn’t bad so it was an easy trip. These conditions caused us to arrive 45 minutes early so we visited a local Burger King for a breakfast sandwich. It took forever to get it, then they got Diane’s sandwich wrong twice in a row. We probably won’t visit that one again. It’s the one by Kohl’s on Cornelius Pass Road.

I checked in for my appointment at 8:15 am, learned the appointment was for 8:45 instead of 8:30, and we both read our books in the waiting room until 8:50 am at which time Diane departed to visit her favorite store for an hour or so. I was left alone … for over half an hour before they called me to my exam room. The Doc and I talked for a while, and she poked and prodded various parts of me, and determined that I should have physical therapy on my right leg and neck (that Jim broke). This physical therapy will take place at the main VA Hospital on “Pill Hill” in Portland. That’s the location where Portland’s huge cable car goes from the Willamette River. It’s pretty impressive. Here’s what it looks like pulling into the stop one morning at the top of the hill. This is from their web site because I couldn’t find the one I took.
The mountain in the middle is Mt. Hood, the one I take lots of pictures of throughout the year. I suspect you’ve seen a few of those. There was a lot of controversy when the tram was being proposed because it goes right over a whole bunch of houses and the residents were concerned that they wouldn’t be able to walk around naked in their back yards once the tram started because people wouldn’t be looking down on them all the time. So, the developers added a seat for a guard who ensures riders DO NOT look down during the ride. If they do, they are immediately ejected. If they don’t, they’re allowed to buy pictures, taken by the camera on the bottom of each car, at the end of the ride. I, personally, didn’t find the pictures intriguing, and thought the $48 price was a little high for only 8 pictures. I’ll never do that again. Diane said so.

After my appointment was over, about an hour later, I fiddled around for a bit, then called Diane that she could some get me whenever she wanted to. She was at Goodwill. She finally showed up and we motored home, picking up the motorhome on the way once we got to St. Helens. It started up just fine, something I was concerned about. Now it’s parked in the driveway, waiting for us to do more “things” to. It will have to sit there until the next storm passes that is reported to be the one that will put us over therecord for rain in March since 1957. I was in the seventh grade. It’s a vivid memory for me because that’s the year the 1957 Chevy Impala, the most beautiful car in the world, was built. This storm is going to drench us tomorrow.

I wore my new suspenders today. It’s nice that they match a variety of shirts Diane allows me to wear. Here’s what they look like …

Diane finds them to be much more fashionable that my yardstick suspenders. So, I’ll save the yellow ones for work only, and trips to ACE. They’re kinda hand for work because they are actually accurate for measuring things and if the measurements are a bit off I can stretch them a little to make up the difference. Pretty handy.

The above picture was just taken by my computer, without my prior knowledge, and shortly after I woke up from a nap to recover from my grueling day. Diane took a nap, too. The dogs didn’t nap quite as long as we did so, once again, they are dictating when I get up. Actually, Jennie did that because she called right at the end of my nap to see if we wanted to drive back to Cornelius with the family to see “Mirror Mirror”. I respectfully declined for us.

Now it’s 6:32 pm and time to seriously think about going out to kill something for supper. If I lived on a farm, that’s probably what I’d do. But, I don’t, so I won’t. Instead, I’ll forage in the freezer for something, or wait until Diane decides what I should eat. Maybe I’ll just have a PB&J and a glass of milk. I really like that.

Nothing came to mind regarding yesterday, so I can only presume that we just skipped Thursday for some reason. I’ll probably never know why.

Quitting now …

A Hard Day In The Laundry Room

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It’s 6:00 pm and I’m tired. I’ve been working all day to clean up the laundry room to prepare it for a fine finish. It’s been the “way it was” since we moved in and Diane’s getting cranky about the way it’s situated and the fact that the doors on her dryer and washer won’t stay open. So, along that line, here’s what I actually accomplished today…

I leveled the washer and dryer so the doors stay open. Oh, and I move the washer next to the dryer, which was pretty easy to do since I ripped out the laundry tub that’s been between them all these years. I’ll be curious to see how stable they are when Diane runs the first load.

I forgot to mention that the day before yesterday I snaked out the floor drain that was filling up and running across the floor. So, it should be good to go. I’m sure all of this is just making all of you giddy with excitement, right? Right.

Looks like PC, the porch cat, decided to go somewhere else to live since we didn’t invite her in permanently. Haven’t seen her in about 4 days. So, we’re sad. We liked having a porch cat and she was friendly. Not your run of the mill feral cat. She’s probably a two-timer and actually already lives at someone else’s house and just came here for her winter vacation. Now that it’s spring, she’s gone home. A snowbird cat. Go figure.

This morning I thought I was going to shift all the plumbing and electrical connections to another wall in the laundry room so we went to ACE to get the necessary parts. First we went to the St. Helens store, which didn’t have enough 5′ sections of PEX tubing, so we went to the Scappoose store which did. Doing that allowed me to do two things – visit with Jack, who was working, and get an education on PEX tubing, from Jack who was honoring his obligation as a … well … a Helpful Hardware Man. Just like in the ACE commercials. He’s got an ACE shirt and everything. I’m very envious.

After learning a lot of stuff about how the various PEX connectors work, I decided that, for now, I just need to get things hooked back up and build the wall before committing to the final move. So, we just bought an Ox Box, and a pair of Carharts suspenders for me. I decided that I’m no longer going to wear belts and Diane doesn’t like the suspenders I normally wear. They’re yellow and look like a really big tape measure. I like them, but I’m not allowed out in public with them on because it makes her skittish. Here’s what they look like …

Nice, huh? Oddly enough, this is what I look like when I’m making up stuff, but I don’t always have the suspenders on. You can’t tell by the picture if I have underwear on or not, but I do. Honest. Diane made sure before we left the house this morning. Also, I have more hair in person. Ask anyone.

There’s really not much else to share for today. I wish I had something clever that I could use to erase the image I have of Tom’s butt with a receipt stuck to it. Makes it hard to sleep.

Monday Lunch @ Village Inn

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Hi – There’s more than lunch to this day, but as I sat down, that’s all that came to mind. So, I’m just going to ramble incoherently for a little while and see what else might leak out of my festered brain. Hard telling.

OK, for one, PC, the porch cat, hasn’t been around for a few days. Funny that he stuck around the entire time we were traveling, she was here every day. Apparently, at least one of those days, was spent in the garage. There’s evidence that she helped herself to one of the bags of dog food, according to the teeth marks. I guess she can’t read, yet.

Anyway, after we got home, she really, really, wanted to come inside the house, so I let her. And, she let the dogs get up close and personal. Perhaps she figured it just wasn’t worth sticking around, and putting up with nosey dogs and decided to seek solace elsewhere. Either that, or she went off somewhere to meditate about her future. The overall result of this is that Diane’s sad. Not me. I’m tough when it comes to cats. We don’t need no stupid little kitty. But, if she comes back, I may change my mind. For Diane.

So, Ozzie checked the clock this morning and, right at 7:00 am he started jumping around on me. He’s a vicious little alarm clock, but really accurate. I just wish I could reprogram him to a later time. I suppose the solution is for me to go to sleep sooner then it wouldn’t be a big deal. I keep trying to do that, but Diane won’t go to bed at a decent time and I’m not allowed to go to bed before her because she might want something. Sometimes, when I ask her something, she tells me she can’t hear around corners, but apparently she thinks I can. When that happens, I just take a guess at what she wants. Most of the time I have at least an inkling about the request, but when that’s missing I just get her a Klondike Bar. The Heath Bar kind. She loves those, especially when she doesn’t ask for one. It’s a safe choice.

Our morning went slowly because we didn’t do much of anything until it was time to get dressed and head to the Village Inn in Portland. We went to the one on Weidler Ave, near the Lloyd Center, where the ice rink is located. Until then, we were just running around the house naked. Actually, we didn’t run around the house at all. We just sat in our computer chairs. And, we weren’t both naked. Diane won’t let me be naked in the house anymore because sometimes I forget and answer the front door.

We left home, for lunch, early enough to stop by Fred Meyer to get the $5 discount for the new U of O hat Diane got me to replace the one I left by the pool in Las Vegas. It’s bright yellow and it’s imperative that I wear brightly colored head gear when we leave the house so Diane can pick me out of a crowd when I wander away. We used to rely on phones, which is the reason I was allowed to get one, but that doesn’t work when she buries hers in the bottom of her purse, with the ringer off. Or, is that me, with the phone in my hip pocket with the ringer off? It’s one of those. Since we were only going to a restaurant, where there’s little danger of getting lost, this is what I wore …

That’s my Ho-Chi-Min hat that Diane got me. It’s made by Coleman, in China, and it’s really warm. Since it’s spring now, I decided that I’m not going to wear it any more until next fall, or winter. It makes my head sweat and messes up my hair. I’d take another picture to show you, but I don’t want to embarrass Diane. Over the past 44 years I’ve learned that’s not a very smart thing to do. The punishment is vividly memorable.

At lunch were Tom, Coleen, Linda, Vie, Nelda, Jerry2, Jerry1, me, and Diane. That’s the order we sat in around the tables that were jammed together. Tom, Diane, me, and Jerry1 sat across from the other four. No, make that the other five. Diane and I had breakfast. Everyone else ate lunch. Jerry1 ordered breakfast, but didn’t eat it. Instead he took it home. It was biscuits and gravy, and looked pretty good.

During lunch I learned a variety of things, most notably was about the time Tom word a pair of his wife’s underwear to work. Apparently it pretty exciting, for a lot people, when they came off while he was in line for a slushy at Wendy’s during lunch. They didn’t actually come off because he really wasn’t wearing them. They were just sticking out of the top of his pants and tickling his leg when he walked. Frankly, I don’t see anything wrong with that, at all. I’d prefer to wear them but, hey, tangling them down my pants is an excellent alternative. Go, Tom!

Also, Tom has a unique filing system for his receipts. Especially those that are stuck to products with tape upon purchase. Once he gets home he sits on them, for some reason, sans underwear. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything about that, but changed my mind. You’ve just got to wonder how a receipt, stuck to a ling piece of red tape, can get stuck to your ass, inside your underwear, and not know it. Maybe I should say that “most’ people might wonder how that can happen, but I have no illusions about the possibility of things like that happening. I do admit, however, that having experienced many weird “things” in my short life, I am not surprised at what happened to Tom, and kind of envy him because he enjoyed such a strange event of this magnitude before me. It’s pretty classic. I’m really proud of Tom for sharing this wonderful story.

Jerry1 arrived last. He called as we were driving to PDX to find out how to get to the Village Inn. I gave him the instructions, and he didn’t have any problem finding us. He reported that he joined a new car club – The Pharaohs. Now he’s in three of those – the TVCC, the Camaro Car Club, and The Pharaohs. I learned that The Pharaohs were the car club in American Graffiti in 1973. Jerry1’s been a really busy guy. He’s also in a variety of bowling leagues around the greater metropolitan Vancouver & Portland areas. We don’t know where he bowls, yet, but when we find out we’re going to rename his team “The Nads”. Then we can stand behind the team and yell “Go Nads, Go!”

I would have had more to share of today’s events, but everyone quit talking after that because they saw I was taking notes. I have to do that, now, since my memory is fading fast. Then, again, not remembering anything hasn’t stopped me from coming up with a lot to say about nothing so far, so I suppose I didn’t really need to take notes.

Except, taking notes of Tom’s experiences allowed me to capture proof that truth really can be stranger than fiction. Receipts taped to your ass … I’m afraid I’ll be dreaming about that tonight. How fun!