Today (Friday) we ate quite well. Not that we haven’t eaten well on previous days lately, but today we ate exceptionally well. The Sea Mist Oceanfront Resort, where we currently reside, had a package for all of us old USS Cleveland sailors that included tickets to eat at The Original Benjamin’s Calabash Seafood buffet. The web site shows the innards better than I can but here’s a quick peek at some of our group chowing down in our own private section of the facility.
Pretty much any kind of seafood you desire, especially shrimp, is presented in many different ways. Pretty amazing. Calabash, by the way, is a word that describes food in this way: Calabash seafood typically refer to seafood that is lightly breaded (usually dipped in milk & then a combo of flour & cornmeal) and then fried. Usually in a calabash-style restaurant you will get huge portions, oftentimes with a combination plate of several types of seafood – shrimp, various kinds of fish, crab, oysters, etc.. and hushpuppies. Calabash is also the name of a small town in North Carolina near the southern border north of Myrtle Beach. Driving on Myrtle Beach one is assaulted with all manner of calabash restaurants. It gets a bit confusing after a bit. Just remember, it’s all good. I’m happy to report, too, that none of it caused my blood sugar to spike. I think another reason it was OK is that Diane was very careful about what I ate. She takes really good care of me.
I would have liked to stay a little longer at the buffet but we had to leave in order to make it to the Alabama Theater before 7 pm to see ONE The Show. It was truly a great show and is highly recommended by all of us who attended.
We weren’t allowed to take photos of the show so this is the only picture I got of the inside. It’s special because it has Diane in it.
The host of the show, Greg Rowles, who won Ed McMahon’s Star Search Show as the Best Male Vocalist 25 years ago, honored all of us USS Cleveland sailors and even provided a lot of the ship’s history. Pretty special evening.
After the show we all headed back to the Sea Mist for our last night at that facility. After breakfast Sunday morning we packed up and drove all the way north to Hilton’s Ocean 22 high rise. It took 11 minutes. We fiddled around a while, driving north to an enormous RV park, with a very small dune that one must traverse to access the beach. It looks like a place we should visit.
From the looks of things, fishing off the beach is a requirement.
Yes, we’ve embarked on another journey. Some of you may be thinking that, considering the sad time we had in Maui recently, we would have given this trip a little more consideration before committing. But, we’ve actually been trying to get some time at Myrtle Beach for the last five years or so but something always comes up that messes it up. Mostly the deterrents come in the form of hurricanes this time of year.
This time, we made it all the way. Here’s proof …
OK, yes it’s the baggage carousel at the Charleston airport, but that’s the airport we flew to and rented the car that got us to Myrtle Beach. Another reason we flew to Charleston was so we could reconnect with our luggage which got there 8 hours before us.
Here’s what happened – there are no non-stop Alaska flights from Portland to Charleston, but there is one from Seattle. So, all we had to do was get to Seattle early enough to make the connection so that we could arrive on the east coast at a decent time of the day. The reservations she got allowed us almost an hour to get to the connecting flight in Seattle that would arrive in Charleston at 4:30 pm their time. If you think about that for a minute, considering the 3-hour time difference, we would arrive at 1:30 pm St. Helens time. Then, figure in flight time from Seattle you can see we had to leave pretty early.
We got up at 3:30 am to catch the PDX to SEATAC leg that left at 6 am. The first snafu we encountered was when TSA kicked us out of the precheck line because out KTN wasn’t printed on our ticket. We knew that but had the letters from TSA as proof that we had KTNs. That’s Known Traveler Number in case you didn’t now. Not good enough for the ambitious little guy who insisted that it had to be on our boarding pass. The first time this happened, on the way to Maui, the TSA agent would have let us continue if we knew the KTN. Not this guy, however.
So, we returned to the ticket counter and fixed it with some manual interventional assistance of a cheerful Alaska Agent.
We breezed right through.
Got to Seattle in plenty of time to make our connection then ‘things’ kinda went south with regard to customer service and scheduling accumen of managers at the SEATAC International airport who parked our plane on the runway for 30 minutes because there wasn’t an open gate for us.
There we sat, with 12 other folks who needed to make the connection, watching the clock tick away, diminishing the probability of making the flight to Charleston.
We finally parked at N15 about 7:20 pm and our connecting flight was scheduled to depart at 7:45. Our pilot and crew assured us that everyone knew we were on the ground and the reason we were late and that they would hold the plane for us.
It was a huge lie. We got to the next gate, D21, in time, but management had already filled our 12 seats with standbys and sent the plane on it’s way, 20 minutes early. Kinda makes your day, ya know?
Then we were sent to the Alaska Customer Service desk near gate D2 that is manned by folks who are accustom to dealing with upset people and apparently don’t see the need to be friendly any longer. We 12 were demoted to 3rd class citizens (whatever that is) and the fact that we missed the flight due to decisions made by the airline.
The two agents behind the counter were working to re-book flights for misplaced people but their hearts weren’t in it and they weren’t very careful about information they doled out. For us, for instance, after they professed to have got us seats on an American Airline plane leaving shortly, gave us a confirmation number and sent us to gate D8 and told us to talk to one of the AA agents there to get us seat assignments. We made that trek and learned that the confirmation was invalid and that the flight we were supposedly put on was full. No seats available.
Back to D2 and customer service. At different agent made another attempt and actually got us seats on a plane leaving in a few hours for Dallas. From there we were booked on an AA flight to Charleston which was to arrive at 11:30 pm.
Interestingly, our bags were transferred from the Portland flight to the original non-stop connection with no problem, but they couldn’t delay 10 minutes to wait for the people who owned them. That’s why our luggage arrived in Charleston on time.
And, they didn’t have any trouble delaying the newly acquired flight, for some reason, which pushed our arrival time in Dallas a little later yet. That was OK because we had a 2-hour layover in Dallas.
Once in Dallas the flight to Charleston was delayed twice ensuring our arrival time wa pushed beyond midnight. Yippee!
By this time both Diane and I were to the point that we could see humor in all the things that had happened to us during this trip. It was like a comedy of errors so it was easier on both of us to accept the comedy of the situation instead of being bitter and upset.
Now, the good part of all this. On both of the flights we met passengers who went out of their way to accommodate both Diane and I by switching seats so we could sit together. You see, with all this switching going on, we were considered standby passengers with no real guarantee we’d get on an airplane. Because of that, we were placed in seats that were rows apart because, you see, all those other passengers made their flight on time.
Our fellow passengers made it all OK and we had a great time talking with them. Had we caught our original flight we would have missed that opportunity which would have been kinda sad.
When we got to Charleston we sent directly to the AA office in the baggage claim area to retrieve our on-time bags. The cheerful agent said, “oh, you were on that Alaska flight …” which kinda told the entire story.
After getting the bags we went looking for a cab because I was told the car rental agents closed up at 11:0-0 pm. But, we saw some lights on at the rental area and saw people turning in to that area. There was hope, after all. You see, we had a car reserved for the trip so we could get to the Air Force Inn at Joint Base Charleston for the night, then drive to Myrtle Beach in the morning.
When we turned the corner and saw lines of people at pretty much all the various rental agencies, and way off in a corner was Enterprise, with one agent working and a line of 2 people ahead of us. It was a miracle.
Long story short, we got a car and made it to Joint Base Charleston with no problem. It was only about 5 miles away, so we didn’t expect problems.
At the Air Force Inn we had a reservation and the agents were waiting for us. We got our room, spent the night, and took off for Myrtle Beach earlier this morning. We fudged our check out time beyond 11:00 am because it was so late when we checked in (1:30 am or so) and stopped at a really busy restaurant for lunch. It was the Long Point Grill in Mount Pleasant, SC for lunch. It was absolutely wonderful and the place was jumping. I had shrimp and linguine. Diane had a chicken BLT sandwich and a cup of tomato and artichoke soup. It as good, but getting it meant she could only eat half her sandwich. So, of course, I ate the other half.
The drive to Myrtle Beach was very relaxing and it was great sailing along without a care, our worries behind us. Life was good.
Now we’re here on the 9th floor, at 1200 S. Ocean Blvd with an ocean view.
Our view northOur view south.
How sweet it is.
Oh ya, the reason we’re here is to attend the 22nd annual reunion of the USS Cleveland Reunion Association. So, there will be more news later.
Just a short snippet to share an interesting (to me) interaction between my fashion-conscious bride and myself as she was preparing to drive herself to an unplanned doctor’s appointment.
Diane has been suffering from what we thought was a bad cold which originated on Maui at “The Wedding”. It started with a severe allergic reaction to a fancy drink with tiny flower petals sprinkled on top. That seemed to clear up and lasted about as long as the flight home then the cold struck with a vengeance.
Last Thursday morning Diane emerged from the bedroom about 9 am with the new that she had an 11:40 am doctor appointment which she made because she was deaf in her right ear when she woke up.
OK. Two things really got my attention right then … Deaf in her right ear, and Doctor appointment at 11:40 am.
Deaf is serious because I’m pretty sure she wasn’t that way when we retired for the evening. At least no complaint was issued. But, then, she doesn’t complain about aches, pains, and other maladies. Then to say she had an appointment with her doctor in just two hours was incredible. That NEVER happens because doctors are usually booked out for a couple of months. Turns out the appointment wasn’t with her PC, but with another doctor in the practice who had just had a cancellation. Had that not happened her next appointment was in November.
With two hours to go, one of which would be used up with travel to Portland, Diane took a shower leaving me alone to contemplate my future with a half-deaf spouse, something I had never considered a possibility. While she showered, I got a little spruced up myself because she wasn’t going alone. You see, getting to Portland requires that we transit through Scappoose when our favorite bagel shop lives and I KNEW she was going to stop there. That wasn’t the only reason I was going with her, but it was a good one.
When she emerged, dressed and ready to go in a nice pair of grey pants, a matching grey sweater, and a pretty blouse. Since she’s color blind she relies on my to reveal the color of her clothing when she isn’t sure and I almost always tell her the truth. Sometimes it’s fun to send her off on a mission somewhere in a blue ensemble with brown socks, but that hardly ever happens. Any more anyway.
This time she wanted to know if her blouse was black or blue or grey. It was black and grey and matched perfectly and I told her so. No way was I going to send her out of the house in something that didn’t match. She looked great, of course.
As I knew she would, she pulled into a parking spot at the Scappoose Bagel shop and I dutifully went in a ordered her favorite – cinnamon-raison, split, toasted, and schmeered with generic cream cheese. I only get plain bagels.
She donned her car-bib (yes, we have those) and once back on the highway I handed her half of her bagel. She munched her way through the first half, and half of the second half before handing it to me stating, “I’m tired of chewing.”
I still had a few bites left of my second half but decided I wasn’t going to let a Scappoose Bagel go to waste and finished it for her. She was concerned that I might catch whatever she had but, since she was driving, she couldn’t stop me. It was a bit chewy, but not as bad as I thought it would be. Thankfully, I had the remainder of my bagel to satisfy my taste buds.
We got to the doctor’s office in plenty of time and she was quickly summoned while I lounged in the waiting room. She wasn’t gone long and we were quickly on our way back home. During the walk to the car she revealed that her right ear drum was perforated, she had infection in both ears, and the inside of her nose and throat had the appearance of someone experiencing an allergic reaction. So, the Maui Allergy attack manifested into a hearing loss. Amazing. That’s speculation, of course, but the only common theme so we went with it.
The doc prescribed prednisone, antibiotics, and Sudafed to deal with her ailments. Sadly, they weren’t ready when we stopped by Rite Aid in St. Helens on the way home, but I gave it a while then went back for them.
All day yesterday she was in misery with ear pain and coughing/sneezing attacks but, despite a two hour afternoon nap, she went to bed at a reasonable time and slept through the night. This morning she awoke with no pain which was very good. Still deaf on the right side, but no pain.
Now she’s off to Fred Meyer to buy something for Gilligan who is 12 today. That’s another story to tell.
The thing about Diane’s malady is that she needs to heal enough to make another long airplane ride to South Carolina this coming Wednesday.
We have non-refundable tickets to Charleston and, by golly, she’s going.
The deed is done and this is just the wrap up of an event that’s been in the planning stages for years. As Sarah would say, she got “Mauied”.
To begin this day of joy and change Diane took a trip to the University of Hawaii Maui campus. That’s where the Maui Swap meet is held. The reason for our trip there was to obtain some outer wear for some little people we know back in Oregon. That, and to look around a bit. One thing I noticed right away was that prices were a bit steep for a swap meet. Hats, for instance. One gentleman had hundreds of them stacked neatly on many tables and his price for a baseball hat was $28! That’s not a swap meet price. I didn’t want a baseball hat anyway. The items Diane found were much more reasonable.
While in the vicinity, we took an moment to capture a selfie to show Jeran that Corban University is being promoted everywhere we go.
Only 40 chairsBeautiful backdropDiane shedding her pre-wedding jitters Same for RuthSarah and Dad Larry begin the march They arrived safelyIt was a flawless handoffRings were exchangedThe final blessing were givenThen “The Kiss”I think she’s happy Now it’s reception timeGrandma RuthGreat Aunt Diane
I went through the line twice – once with Ruth and again with Diane. Lucky me.
Ruth and LarryLarry and Diane
After the reception line it was into the hall for the reception dinner, after all the photos were taken. Right about this time Diane became ill and had to leave but she insisted I had to stay and eat. I did that then she came back to get me after the crowd began to get rowdy, like young crowds tend to do. They were having a terrific time and I was worried about Diane so it was all OK.
Diane was pretty sick and we spent all of Sunday inside – Diane rested and I stayed quiet like a mouse.
Now we’re going to take it real easy until our flight Wednesday morning. Maybe we’ll find an opportunity to visit Goodwill, but that remains to be seen.
Yes, we came to Maui to attend a wedding for Jason and Sarah. For those who don’t know the family history, Sarah is our Grand Niece who was originally from Connecticut. Then she discovered Jason and moved west, to Hillsboro, to be with him. Then they got married the day before yesterday (the 21st). I believe that was the last day of summer in most parts of the world.
That’s the happy couple. In case you ever wind up in St. Vincent’s Hospital you’re in good hands. Sarah’s an RN and that’s where she works, and she works a lot.
The road to Maui was, I’m told, a year-long planning event for Sarah and Jason, Sarah mostly. Seems like I heard Jason mention something about finally being able to relax, not having to write any more checks, once the event was over so suspect he wasn’t as involved in the planning as was Sarah. I won’t dwell on the planning because I really have no firsthand knowledge of those efforts beyond what we experienced on the receiving end.
We arrived on Maui last Wednesday, the 18th, mid afternoon. Joined a bunch of people at the Budget Car Rental kiosk, got a Jeep Grand Cherokee, and headed for Kihei. It’s a simple drive south from the airport about 15 miles or so. That’s actually all the way across the isthmus between the two volcanoes that make the island. I find it interesting that only the east volcano has a name – Haleakala. The western volcano is only labeled “volcano” on the maps I’ve looked at. digging a little deeper in the narratives available, I found this:
The eastern volcano is Haleakala, a 10,000 foot shield volcano whose name means “House of the Sun”. Haleakala’s elevation means that it sometimes – briefly – has snow on top in the winter. The western part of the island is home to what geologists call Mauna Kahalawai, an eroded shield volcano commonly called the West Maui Mountains. Hawaiians also refer to the West Maui Mountains as “hale mahina”, or “house of the moon”.
I’m so happy I could resolve that dilemma for everyone, whether or not you were concerned. I was, but no longer am.
On Thursday, the 19th, we joined the Connecticut contingent of the wedding party fora little shopping on Front Street in Lahaina. This is Ruth, our Sister-in-Law and grandmother of the bride, her son Larry, Father of the bride, Valerie, Step Mom of the bride, and Diane, Grand Aunt of the bride.
There were others from the east coast but these are the primaries. We had a good day and only lost Larry for a little while when he went back to the car for a camera battery,
After shopping we returned to Ruth’s (and Larry’s & Valerie’s) accommodations to await the appointed time for a group supper at the Aloha Mixed Plate. Excellent food!
On Friday, the 20th, we decided to see if the Road to Hana is really all that bad. I’m happy to report that, thanks to Diane’s excellent driving skills, and her willingness to embark on such an adventure, that road is pretty much everything you may have ever heard about it. We did it and we’ll never have to do it again.
Hana, Maui is located on the south eastern part of Maui and is accessible only by air, boat, or a grueling drive on Highways 36, 360, and 31. It’s actually the same road all the way around Haleakala but some parts are considerably better than others. The Road to Hana is legendary and Diane got me the T-shirt to prove it:
A great deal of the road is single lane, especially over the dozens of bridges. It’s an exciting drive and Diane did every inch of it. It was truly amazing.
With a stop 1/3 of the way to Hana on the east side, the trip took about 4 hours. It’s only about 52 miles (according to the T-shirt) so that means we had to go pretty slow most of the time. Neither of us is prone to car sickness but we both got a little nauseous before reaching Hana.
Our stop was at a botanical garden. They call it that be, in truth, the entire trip was like driving through a huge botanical garden. Very lush, green, and humid.
Here’s one flower you’ve all seen at one time or another. I’d include more, but you’ve probably seen them, too.
OK, here’s another one …
The next one I don’t think is a flower. It’s a pod of some sort hanging in a tree. Don’t know what it is but it’s pretty and got my attention.
Diane toughed out the remainder of the trip to Hana but I could tell she was getting tired. I would have driven but we never allow Jerrie to drive rental cars. Besides, as Diane said, if she hadn’t been driving she would have been puking her guts out. I guess that was a left-handed compliment to me because, though a bit nauseous, I never once puked. Believe me, there was plenty of opportunity to do so.
Finally, we reached our goal just as I was on my way down to a diabetic crash due to lack of food. We stopped at the first eatery we saw, the Ranch Restaurant, and took a seat. When the waitress, Natalie, arrived Diane asked for a glass of orange juice for me which she got very quickly. We both had very good hamburgers and drinks and it only cost $51. Considering our situation, it was well worth it and it helped me maintain a vertical position.
While eating we discussed the return trip. Should we go back the way we came, or continue on around the mountain. Neither of us could remember if the rental car agent had warned us off the southern portion of Route 31, and Natalie said ‘Pshaw. It’s not raining and it’s a beautiful drive.’ We believed her. Before leaving, however, we took advantage of their restrooms because we knew there were none on the road. It takes a code to get in the door so if you’re ever in Hana, at the Ranch Restaurant, remember this number:
You actually don’t need to remember it because they freely hand out little slips of paper like this to anyone who asks.
Not long into the return trip I was pretty sure we had tipped Natalie too much. The north eastern segment, though very curvy, was actually pretty good road. The south western portion was just as curvy but the road varied from asphalt to gravel to dirt to broken asphalt, continue. It was a mess. But, it was a pretty drive and we were generally going slow enough that we could see stuff.
We finally made it back to our condo in time to watch the sun go down behind Molokai.
On the way back to our condo …
… we encountered this drill team practicing for a parade …
When the sun was all gone we had this view from our porch …
We did nothing the rest of the day and went to bed very early. The next morning we were presented with this little snippet of a rainbow. Never seen one like it …
There will be more about this day in my next post. I’m tired now.
… to my bride. She pointed out that I failed to share vital information about grandchildren other than The Littles in my last post. I was actually aware of that omission at the time but was suffering from a severe case of something yet to be determined. As soon as I come up with a viable cause, I’ll certainly let you know. Right away.
Lydia and Cedric were the ones missing from my previous post. I guess I was too focused on The Littles. Lydia and Cedric are, after all, full grown adults now. Still, they are our children’s children and we love them, too.
It was Friday morning when Lydia drove into Big Eddy toting surprises in the form of Cedric and Ceiarra. Everyone knew that Cedric’s ship, the USS Nimitz (CVN-68), was in port at Bremerton, WA but didn’t expect him to be fetched for a visit this soon. Lydia drove up Thursday afternoon when she got off work and drove him back to St. Helens. After resting for the night they made the arduous 20 miles trip to Big Eddy to hang out with everyone. It was especially meaningful for Jennifer who commented the first day that this was the first Family Camp ever when they didn’t have kids with them. Then some kids showed up. It was great. Including Ceiarra was great, too.
Sadly, I was pretty lax about getting photos compared to what I used to do. Guess the finger I use to snap photos was worn out. Anyway, it was good to have Cedric and Ceiarra show up. The Littles were especially happy about it.
I’m listening to my lovely wife, Diane. She told me a couple days ago that I haven’t posted anything during the month of July. I checked and, by golly, she’s absolutely correct. I haven’t. I can only attribute this lack of posting to old age or, perhaps I’ve simply used up most of the words available to me in a given period of time. I’ve heard that’s a ‘thing’. Diane has a cousin who, when she’s at a loss for words, says “…I must have used up all my nouns.”
Considering the amount of time that’s passed I’m pretty sure I can’t possibly remember things in proper sequence, if I can remember things at all, so I’m just going to ramble and see what happens. That way I can be just as surprised as you when something profound sneaks out.
Let’s see … on July 15th Jerrie Anne Diane Cate celebrated her 8th birthday which means the school district has no choice but to allow her to attend 3rd grade when school resumes in September. She’s pretty stoked about that. Matter of fact, she actually cried when the school year ended because she likes school that much. Her older sisters love school, too, so it’s apparently a genetic ‘thing’ that comes from their mother’s side of the family. I guess it could be from Diane, too, but it’s surely not from me. I was perfectly OK when summer showed up and I was still wearing little boy clothing.
Shortly after Jerrie’s birthday we fired up the bus and returned to Paradise Cove for a few days of R&R, by ourselves. You may recall we took The Littles there in June for about a week. We had big plans to spend a lot of time in the hot tub but I don’t remember doing that even one time. Instead we spent our time either sitting on or walking along one beach or another, watching the waves. The high light of the sitting part was when we parked ourselves on a tall dune above the remains of the Peter Iredale which has been a fixture on the beach at Fort Stevens State Park my entire life. We were there to watch the sunset and saw some whales playing along the shore spouting a few times, showing us their tails, then disappearing. It was pretty special which is good because the sun went behind some clouds and there was no proper sunset. It just got dark and chilly. Be we had whales!
We returned from that trip on Monday and had a few days days to recover, we thought, until Diane discovered that we had reservations at Big Eddy County Park near Vernonia on Wednesday. This was another trip with The Littles because it’s a yearly Family Camp for Jennie’s and Daniel’s church. We’re always invited and we almost always go because it’s great fun. The Littles went last year for the first time and loved it. They got to spend days, literally, in the Nehalem River, and they made lots of new friends. The great thing about this is that the church rents the entire park so the kids can be free to go wherever they want with no fear of something bad happening. They just had to check in with their home camp on a regular basis so we knew where they were and they could not venture into the river without adult supervision. All we adults had to do was sit around our campfires talking and eating snacks. Once in a while kids would show up and we’d have a meal. The big deal with food culminated in a dessert social where I cut Jerrie a piece of very rich chocolate cake that was far too large. She savored every morsel but wound up giving it all back, plus, later that evening. I suspect it tasted much better the first time it passed her lips. She recovered nicely the next day and was able to spend lots of time with her friend Lilly.
The bigger Littles (Gilligan & Baylee) put dozens of miles on bikes, riding all over the park with their friends. Most of the bike riders were careful but we had to be wary of the smaller ones with training wheels. They weren’t overly concerned about who was in front of them as they pedaled around, talking to whoever was riding next to them. Diane was almost run over many times because she either didn’t hear the rattle of those training wheels or she thought they actually knew about the rules when encountering old people. Like, don’t run into them. They tend to tip over and break things. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.
I exercised our small little BBQ for one meal by cooking hamburger and chicken patties. I don’t use it often, and only clean it when I do figuring that whatever bad things may have grown on it since the last use would surely be consumed during the warm-up phase. It’s worked so far and has provided us with some tasty hotdogs with a hint of steak and old hamburgers. They are a culinary treat. Now that we’re home I’m reminded that I need to remove the 4 chicken patties I left on the BBQ when I put it back in the RV. I have no valid reason for doing that. It just seemed to be OK at the time. I can already hear Diane calling my name, in large capital letters — “JEROLD BRADLEY CATE” — when she reads this.
In case you’re wondering about the danger of little kids playing in the Nehalem River, fear not. It’s not a big river. It’s more like a large creek. And there are always lots of people around lounging on a variety of different kinds of floating devices. It’s pretty safe.
That’s about it for this time. Hope everyone is having a wonderful summer.
It’s a simple one and won’t take a lot of time unless I happen to recall more details as I progress. Sometimes that happens. I don’t know why, it just does.
In a nutshell, yesterday we went camping. Technically we’re camping right this very minute. Well, some of us are. Others are off gallivanting around Tillamook, eating ice cream, and whatnot, while Ziva and I stayed behind to guard the camp. Ok, it’s not really a camp. It’s an RV, and it has TV, but it will always be considered camping to us. As I type, I’m sitting in my outside chair that we specifically bought for camping, so, we’re camping.
The weather is awesome. A little overcast, but not chilly and there are peeks of blue sky all around so all this cloud cover is likely to burn off before the day gets much older. I don’t really care because if things change for the worse, Ziva and I will just go inside and take a nap.
Getting everything ready to go yesterday didn’t seem to be much of a problem. Everything we owned was loaded into the RV along with three fairly small children – Gilligan, Baylee, and Jerrie. And Ziva, our elderly dog.
While loading everything, Onie, Jeff & Heather’s dog, discovered that the cat was roaming around the RV and gave chase. It was furious for a short time, but Onie finally responded to everyone’s plea to cease and desist the chase. Breezie, the cat, ran under the RV and appeared to be safe so everyone took a deep breath and went about their assigned chores. It was pretty exciting for a short time.
Once loaded, Diane headed down to her Mom’s, Jean’s, house in the tow car for a chat while I and the children went to the local Chevron station to load up on some cheap diesel. We had to run the pump twice because the first time we got $1 off each gallon, thanks to Safeway points, so that first 25 gallons only cost $1.86 a gallon. The next 11 gallons were full price. They used to allow 35 gallons but I think they changed the rules yesterday morning because they knew I was going to pay them a visit. Figures.
Once we were properly topped off, I strapped myself into the pilot’s chair and prepared to leave the station. Right at that exact moment, I see Breezie walking away from the RV and behind another vehicle at the pump. I was able to get outside quick enough to snatch her and get her safely inside the rig. It’s simply a miracle that I was looking in the spot she chose to escape, or she would have been lost forever. The station is about a mile from home, on busy Highway 30, a place she’s never been.
So, when we showed up at Great Grandma’s house, everyone was surprised to see that Breezie was with us. It was pretty amazing. Thankfully, Jeff came down to help me connect the tow car for the trip and was able to drive her back home. He said she crawled into his lap for that short trip and was really happy to be home. It was pretty amazing.
Hooking up the tow car isn’t really a big deal if you know all the rules. Unlike the last trip, we remembered to install the safety cables. I removed the designated fuse before Diane left home so that was already done. The fuse powers up things that will drain the battery because the key needs to remain in the ACC position. That’s the part Jeff didn’t know about so he turned the key all the way off, locking the steering wheel. Consequently, when we turned corners everyone was asking, “What’s that noise?” I could see in the rearview that the front wheels weren’t tracking so the noise was me scraping a bunch of miles off the front tires with every turn.
We hadn’t gone far so I pulled off the highway and I fixed that little error. Then, after turning the next corner, the car began wobbling back and forth for some reason which required another stop for investigation. Jeff came back and helped with that while we were parked in front of Daniel and Jennifer’s house on Matzen Street. They live about a mile from us, so we were setting a record for not getting out of town in a reasonable amount of time. The goal was to be gone around noon-ish. At this time we’re approaching 2 pm, way beyond the limits we normally observe. Had it been only 1 pm it would have been OK.
The only thing I could figure that was wrong with the connect between car and RV was that the tow bar didn’t latch properly, even though it appear to be OK. So, I disconnect the tow bar from the RV and ensured that the latches worked, then released both sides while Jeff maneuvered the car so I could set the hitch on the ball and lock it in place. Then I had him put the car in reverse and give it a bunch of gas to yank the hitch hard enough to make it latch on both sides. Actually, I had him slowly back up to apply enough tension to make them latch. Then I showed him the need for leaving the ignition on, so the steering wheel worked.
There were some other tests in there, one of which involved Jeff riding in the tow car while I towed it around the block a couple of times. He said it was pretty freaky doing that.
The last fix resolved the wobble problem and we hit the road for real. The destination was Paradise Cove in Wheeler, Oregon on Nehalem Bay. During that trip I heard a lot of suggestions that maybe I should slow down a little on the corners because the road was narrow. It really wasn’t, and I was really going the speed limit (most of the time), but I slowed down anyway. It was, after all, 4 to 1 against me as to who was actually correct. Didn’t matter that I was in charge of the steering wheel.
Women …
We arrived safely, in spite of my errant driving tactics, and found a likely spot with the required southern exposure needed for the satellite receiver. Gotta have TV or it’s just a wasted trip, you know. Once the car was relieved of the tow bar everyone, including Ziva, crammed themselves into the available seats and Diane drove us to Rockaway Beach so the Littles could run and jump in the ocean.
It didn’t matter that the sun was going down soon and everyone but them were wearing hoodies, they ran to the beach and immediately shed their candles and shorts, dropping them in the sand, then headed for the beach. It didn’t matter that the tide was out and the surf line was most of 1/4 mile away.
Diane said “I should have brought a bag,” which is code for, “please go back to the car and get a bag while I watch the girls.” It’s good that I know code. I got the back and loaded the clothes up then followed along. It was a long walk. Then, about the time I got there, it was determined that Ziva needed to go away from people to maybe relieve herself. She’s a little shy. So I walked her back to the rocks that protect the parking lot 1/4 mile away. She had a wonderful time sniffing pretty much everything in sight but didn’t seem to have any urgent needs to squat and pee. So, we walked back to the family. In all I walked most of a mile to do this. Now, that’s not a complaint, just a simple statement of fact. Really. That’s all.
Gilligan said we would never see her shiver and honored that claim. She said she was able to do that because the water was so cold it immediately froze her feet to the point where the water actually felt kinda warm. The other two agreed. I recall being that age … really, I do … and also had the ability to play in the freezing ocean just like that so I wasn’t surprised.
They romped for about an hour until we convinced them we should probably head back “home” and maybe eat something for dinner. Some of us were hungry.
We feasted on chicken noodle soup, the perfect meal for really cold people. Then we watched So You Think You Can Dance and went to bed. I got to sleep about 3 hours before a cramp in my right leg decided to get me up for a while. Everyone else woke up slowly, we had some breakfast, then Diane took the Littles to the Tillamook Cheese Factory, leaving me home to nap, read, walk, or whatever I wanted to do. It was OK with me. I stayed and kept Ziva company.
I got hungry a little while ago because they’ve been gone for a while and I know they’re eating lunch someplace. I probably should have had a PB&J sandwich but ate 5 pieces of licorice Jennie gave me for Father’s Day instead. I also had a couple handfuls of cashews to balance it off. Then Ziva and I went for a walk. I took a bottle of water and drank it on the way.
On the way back to the RV a car was leaving and stopped by me to talk. The gentleman began the conversation lamenting about all the things he volunteers for, the last of which is for the AcroCats. He’s apparently minding a 45 foot Prevost RV that he said is full of cages with trained cats that he looks after in this volunteer evolution. One got away and wouldn’t respond to the whistle they are trained to respond to at feeding time. He was a bit flustered and suggested that if anyone was in the mood to volunteer, he gladly let them have at it. I let him know I’d tell the cat lady I married about this opportunity. Here’s what he was guarding …
Then he left to go take a shower.
We spent time in the Wheeler pool and I was able to recreate a visit we had many years ago with the Walters’ Clan.
The original photo was of Jennie, Logan, Cedric, and Lydia doing the same jump. Fun stuff.
The remainder of our stay was just very relaxing interspersed with walks and lots of pool time. We went to the beach a few times, too, but there’s no need to bore you with photos of all that. I’ll just add a few more.
Weird CloudsTired DogDrying for the next tripBreakfast
The trip home was uneventful except for two occasions where the tow car started wobbling very hard. The first time was while going down a hill into the Seaside area. The second time was while transiting the two very sharp turns when leaving Astoria. I was able to stop and get the tow bar latched both times but there’s obviously something wrong with that lash up.
Not far from home we encountered an accident that was in the process of being cleared to allow traffic to move on. It was an amusing spectacle watching the tow truck driver get his hitch thingy under the black pickup a few inches at a time. He’d move a bit, get out and go look under the truck, get back into the tow truck, move a few more inches, etc. until he finally had it where he wanted. Then he raised the trucks rear wheels and pulled it our of the way. It was amusing, also, to watch the policeman walking around with his vest on upside down. Kinda funny.
Diane brought a bottle of wine on the trip but didn’t have anything appropriate to pour it in until she went to Goodwill and found these crystal glasses.
The glasses and the case cost a whopping $4.00. What a deal.
In my last post I reported a dietary faux pas where Diane educated me, at length, about me believing two apple fritters and a maple bar constituted an adequate breakfast. I learned my lesson. Today I honored those newly discovered instructions had three cinnamon rolls and two blueberry muffins instead. Apparently that combination was OK because I encountered neither spousal opposition nor new dietary instructions. So, I’m good to go with that one whenever the opportunity pops up.
Could be, too, that my spouse wasn’t aware of these infractions until just now. If that’s the case I should be exempt from any misdemeanors that arise from this admission.
In my defense I must report that the items I ingested were supplied by our church ladies as a reward to the church men for allowing the ladies to move the recurring mens’ Thursday morning coffee hour from the Kozy Korner to the church. The ultimate goal of that change was to entice the men to participate in the ladies’ Thursday morning church cleanup efforts. I think it was pretty evident from the start that they scheduled their church cleanup at the same time as the mens’ coffee hour in an effort to shame us into helping them.
Having shared all that, I must admit that it really worked, at least for me. I felt bad about it because I know the jobs they were doing had to be done. So, of course, both of the the men helped, just like all good married men should do.
About school … we have three young girls living with us who are profoundly sad that summer is here and they won’t get to go to school for another 2.5 months. They actually cried because they can’t go to school any more until September. I, personally, have no memory of being sad about having to go on summer vacation from school. Ever. Nope, I was perfectly happy about doing no school work for a long time.
Our girls, however, demonstrated just how much they liked their teachers and learning in general. They are all good at it, too. Makes us, and their parents, very proud. Next week Diane and I are taking the girls for a week at Nehalem Bay.
That is going to be a lot of fun. There will be photographic evidence of the fun when we return home from the trip.
Temporary Sanity ... 