Playing in the dirt …

Remember this one ?

IMG_0461… that’s my Old Truck.

Today we had to go get more dirt from Beaver Bark but the Old Truck’s brakes are the south side of Iffy so Diane said I could take Her Truck. At first I thought she was kidding and was more than willing to take a chance with the Old Truck. Turns out, however, she apparently likes me enough to save me the danger of driving around in an Old Truck with iffy brakes and 1700 obs of dirt in the back.

So, I drove her truck. We discovered that, even though it’s a short bed, it will hold 1.5 yards of dirt and we can still get the tonneau cover locked down. Another reason I took Her Truck is because I’m pretty certain it was a bit jealous of the Old Truck and may have had something to do with the brake failure. She’s not talking, however, so we may never know.

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It took a little bit of jockeying to get it lined up so the dirt could be removed from the back, but I did it. I didn’t take a picture of the loaded rig, or the new pile of dirt, but I did get one of our newly christened rock garden. It resides on top of the septic tank. I dug down to about a foot to reach the top of the tank, next to the cleanup port, so I could straighten it up. It was crooked and bothered me.

Now it looks nice. It’s the with round thing in the center of the garden.

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Jewel and Diane selected the items to be included, most of which also serve as deer repellent. Jewel put things where she wanted them and I dug holes to hold them. Some came from the front of the house, like some of the Hens and Chickens that we scattered around. Turns out there are many different kinds of those things. I never knew.

I’m curious about why they are called Hens and Chickens, though. I thought hens were chickens. I asked Diane and her best answer was the Hens are the big parts and Chickens are the little ones. Jewel just calls the little ones babies.

Anyway, we have a bunch of them.

The colored flowers are supposed to help keep deer away, which is necessary here, and will be planted around the outside of the rock border as soon as we regain our strength. That may be Friday becasue we’ve had conflicting reports that it’s going to be 90+ tomorrow, but our little thermometer thing indicates it’s going to rain. Maybe it will do both. If so, I’m not going out there.

There will also be irises on the steep back side of the garden to help hold the soil in place. Those things will grow anywhere. Poke a hole, stuff a rhizome in it, cover and water, and you have irises that will never go away.

There was a hollyhock in a pot out there for a few days and a doe ate every leaf right off of it. Guess hollyhocks aren’t deer resistant.

All the rocks, by the way, used to be a fence between us and our west side neighbors, Scott, Whitney, Kiah, and Brooklyn. And Taylor. Taylor is their Georgia Dog. Scotts had her since he was 6 and he just couldn’t leave her in Georgia. She’s one of the best dogs ever.

I made that up. I have no idea how long they’ve had Taylor.

Been watching the Olympics a little in the afternoon, but am saving my best cheering for the lady’s soccer games.

Sleep well and be safe.

Grandma Jean is 89, so we ate pizza

Today Diane’s Mom, Jean, turned the calendar to begin her 89th year. We got a jump on the festivities when Diane organized a celebratory coffee hour after church yesterday morning. Today’s event was more intimate, attended by Diane, Jennie, Lydia, and me. We went to Fultano’s in Scappoose to partake of their lunch special so we could just sit and talk, mainly. But we ate pizza, too. And Salad. And ice cream. And cookies. We left stuffed and happy. Lydia had gone on a 14 mile hike this morning with members of her soccer team and made it back just in time to switch from hiking clothes into an adorable little dress so she could go to Fultano’s with us. Sadly, she had stopped at McBurgerville on the way home for some chicken strips so wasn’t hungry. She did, however, have a couple of glasses of ice tea. It was good to have her with us. Pretty soon she, like Cedric, will be off in search of her own life. Jeran would have come along, too, but he was working. He does that. A lot.

Yesterday, after coffee hour, Diane, Jewel and I helped the Scappoose High Class of 1962 celebrate their 54th reunion, in the rain, at Trojan Park, previous home of Oregon’s only nuclear power plant. Besides us, the following folks attended: Karen, Darrell, Laurie, Phyllis, Josette, Mary Ann, Eva, Evelyn, David, Sam, Vern, Larry, Harold, Howard, Harriett, and Judy. So, counting Jewel and me there were 17 of us from a class of about 100. Also in attendance were eleven spouses. It was a potluck, the best kind of picnic. Pretty good stuff. We visited for a few hours then dispersed to resume our normal lives until next year when we’ll do it again.

I heard through the Grape Vine that Terri and Lisa have started construction on their new home. We wish them well, and that there will be no hiccups that cause delays.

This morning, before getting ready for our trip to lunch, I helped brother Jack make a couple of dump runs. The first one was 460 lbs making us ineligible for the senior discount. The second trip, however, through judicious choice of products to discard, we were able to get the weight right on at 320 lbs, the maximum allowed for the discount. Pretty slick. Teamwork. I had to take Diane’s truck to haul the trailer because I need to fix the brakes on my old truck. Only the left front brake works, I think. I was going to take it anyway but then it started raining making use of the old truck a deal breaker because I still haven’t put the windshield wipers on it. They’re in the garage someplace. Guess it’s that time of year where I’ll have to dig them up if I want to keep driving it. Might need them tomorrow when I go golfing.

Wait! Good news! Diane just told me she’d get up early to take me to the golf course if Doug could bring me home. Oddly enough, Doug called right about then and agreed that he would do that. What a guy.

Now I need to think about going to bed so I can be nice and rested for tomorrow’s grueling contest.

Cheers.

Oh ya. Hope all of you Idaho people have already purchased your gift for Gracie’s party next Saturday. It’s my understanding that everyone is gathering at the Idaho Center around 2-2:30 for a brief visit with her opening act, Garth Brooks, then everyone will be directed to their reserved seats for her birthday party. No gifts, please. Just give her money. There will be more on this as the event draws closer.

My Ear, and DISH Satellite

Here it is August 4th already, and the days are noticeably shorter and the nights longer. Longer nights haven’t yet confused the Little Black Dog (Ozzie) because he still  wakes me up promptly at 0500. He either has a terrific internal clock, or he can read Diane’s alarm clock.

Yesterday I spent a few hours with my dermatologist who concisely excised a 10x15mm piece of skin from the top of my right ear that was home for a herd of basal cell carcinoma things. It was done using Mhos Surgery. I believe I mentioned a couple of days ago that this was going to happen. I was prepared to spend the day because the process involves taking small bits of flesh, biopsying it, then taking more, if necessary. The biopsy part takes about an hour so requiring multiple scoops, as Diane calls them, could take a while. I was lucky as my doc got it all with one scoop and we were hope by 1030, not quite three hours from the 0745 check-in time. Now I an adorned with an impressive mass of what was called a “pressure” bandage but is, in fact, not putting much pressure on the wound. Diane had to augment the nurses efforts with the large piece of tape because it was almost flapping in the wind. This is the way I went to coffee this morning with my friends Larry and Larry.

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After coffee I went to ACE for some things Diane put on a list for me then came home and fiddled with the DISH receiver in our trailer. Diane, Jennifer, Lydia, and Jewel shopping in Portland, leaving me unsupervised but with stern instructions that I was not allowed to do “anything” in the way of labor that involved exertion of any kind, doctors orders. Apparently there’s a mild possibility that one or more of the 12 stitches might give way allowing my ear to spurt blood all over the place. I don’t think that’s something the dogs would clean up for me and it would certainly create a bad situation for me once Diane got home. So, I remained in my Coffee Clothes, boots and all, and mosied back and forth to the trailer getting our DISH receiver set up as a DVR. All I had to do was add a hard drive to it and have the service activated. I called the first time and thought I’d made myself clear, but the service wasn’t activated. So, I used their handy CHAT feature and accomplished the task.

The external hard drive I used the one sitting behind my computer that used to be my back up drive. It was originally installed in an Apple Time Machine that had an electronical problem that occurred well after the warranty period. So, I ripped it apart and installed the hard drive in a case that I purchased somewhere and continued using it at my Time Machine drive. Worked great until I got a Western Digital 4TB MyCloud device. Then it just sat there. Ignored. Until today.

After getting the DVR service activated I plugged the drive into my 211z DISH receiver and it went to work formatting the drive for me. I’ll be curious to see how well it works. Seems to have adapted to its new job OK so far.

You needed to know all that.

Now I must stop and watch Olympic Soccer.

If I get in trouble, for any reason, once Diane returns, I’ll be back to share it with you all.

Later …

Diane and Jewel returned home safely with a really good sandwich for me from the Virgina Cafe. I’m afraid I gobbled. The I talked Diane into removing all that padding from my ear which I was quickly beginning to dislike immensely. It still hurts, but now I can get ice closer to the offending area. Relief is in sight. If necessary, I know where the rum is.

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My Burn Pile, “Jason Bourne”, Dirt, Hamburgers, and Dog Greetings

Today I donned my Dickies and worked in the dirt for a while after feasting on toast and Cheerios, with brown sugar. I ate first because I know Diane would have told me to do so had she been home, but she was in Portland with her Mom, Jean, who had a doctor’s appointment. She would have been proud that I thought about eating all by myself. Most of the time I just wait until I’m told to go wash because lunch or dinner are ready. It’s something I’m used to what with having two ladies living in the house. One of them is always cooking something, which works great for me. Also, when one cooks, generally, the other one does the dishes. I know that, having shared that, I will certainly be put on the rotation for dishes. Truth is, I do the dishes quite often. I also cook once in a while. I’m “that” guy.

The sum result of my morning was to remove all the piles of yard debris from the edge of the yard, where Jewel stacks it, and transport it to the burn pile. Unfortunately, the burning season won’t start again until October so it’s going to be pretty large by then. It’s pretty large now.

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Actually, I emptied a yard of bulk potting soil from the pickup, too. One shovel full at a time.

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This afternoon, we watched “Jason Bourne” at the Scappoose Cinema 7 because it was Cheap Senior Day. Actually, it was cheap for everyone because all tickets were $5. We got there a little later than desired because I had to clean myself up after working in the yard, pulling stumps, and such. That resulted in the need for the three of us to sit closer to the screen than our little eyes liked. If you’ve seen the movie you know there’s a lot of action going on and the fast camera motion when you’re up close makes my eyeballs wobble around too much.

Although the movie only cost $5 for everyone who attended, most of them were old folks. One of them appeared to have brought they grandchildren to watch this R rated movie which we thought was a bit odd. Wonder if Mom & Dad knew. Maybe they will find out when the kids get home and start ratting out Grandma.

Another reason for getting to the theater early on old people day is to ensure you get a seat in the middle of the row you select because that’s generally where the old folks with small bladders sit. If you’re on the end it’s quite probably that you will be treated to an overweight person sliding their butts across your face as they step on your toes in their hurry to get to the bathroom. That only happened once. On the way back-end that lady just took her time.

On the way out of the theater we encountered a frenzied group of theater employees frantically working to stem the leak in the women’s bathroom. It must have been a couple of inches deep on the floor. It’s my theory that the lady who rushed that direction in the middle of the movie tried to flush her depends down the toilet without success. Just guessing, of course. There was no proof that I could see, but I didn’t look long.

For dinner Diane took us to Burgerville in St. Helens for some nutritious hamburger meat from Venezuela. That’s a lie, of course, because everyone knows that Burgerville only uses cows who used to live in Oregon and Washington, and maybe Northern California. We ate there so the dogs wouldn’t know about it. If we had taken the meal home they would have been harassing us for little bites of meat and french fries. They always do that.

It didn’t matter because when we got home all they wanted to hear about was the movie and when it would be on HBO so they could watch it. There was no talk about hamburgers at all. All they did was greet us in the same exuberant manner they use every time we’re gone from the house more than 5 minutes. Ziva has the need to put her hands on me which sometimes results in damage to my exterior. Here’s the results of one of her hello’s:

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She did that with just one foot. It was a double tap that she just couldn’t control. If my skin wasn’t so crepe papery I may not have bled at all. I would have just had a bunch of hematomas.

Since I had to put the old truck in the back yard to facilitate removal of the dirt we purchased, I decided it’s just as well that I leave it there. That way I can just use it to jump-start the lawn mower when I need to use it. Logic says that getting a new battery for the mower would be the more expedient solution, but logic doesn’t necessarily factor in to many of the decisions I make day in and day out.

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Now I must blot the ketchup off my Dickies so I can wear them tomorrow for my visit with the doc. It’s just a little spot.

Golfing, and other Stuff

It was a good day on the golf course. None of us died. I beat the Peal brothers handily which reaffirms my previous statements about golfing more makes you better. This just happened to be my day. Doug came in with a cold and then we have Junior who has two fake knees and a bad back that requires a couple of back braces to make playing tolerable. We had a good time.

Getting to the golf course, however, was a bit dicey because the brakes on my old truck decided it was time to retire. Thankfully, there was no one at the intersection of Barr Ave and Sykes Road when I made this discovery or there would have been a wreck. But, I made it to the course on time by driving very carefully the rest of the way. I can stop it if the truck is rolling slowly. Made it home OK, too. Since it has a load of dirt in the back, I need to find some brake fluid so I won’t run through the lower fence in the back yard when I go there.

… pause …

Couldn’t find any brake fluid in the garage, but I have lots of power steering fluid so used some of that. Seems to work just fine. Does anyone know if that’s a bad idea?

Only a day left before I go under the knife for Mohs surgery on Wednesday morning. Dr. Alan is going to peel all the skin off my right ear, remove all the basal cell carcinoma things then put it all back together. I told the young lady who called for the pre-op stuff that I was OK with and Ear-ectomy if necessary but she said that wouldn’t be necessary and that when Dr. Alan is done it will still look like an ear. She didn’t say what kind of ear, and I didn’t ask, so I planning to be surprised when it’s all done. I’ll take a picture to share.

Right now I’m going to just rest a bit and wait for Diane to feed me.

Ciao.

Best Pork Chops and Gravy Ever

For those of you who use computers but don’t particularly care what day it is, like most retired people I know, today is the last day of July for this year. That would be 7/31/2016; 07312016; July 31st, 2016; or 31 July, 2016, depending on your preference for denoting dates and time.

Me? Although today is July 31st, it’s also Sunday which is really all I need to know. So, if anyone asks me what the date is, I just say, “It’s Sunday”. My brother, Jack, would say “It’s July”. He told me that, so I know it’s true.

Diane made a terrific meal after church today. She pan-fried pork chops, made mashed potatoes, cooked fresh beets (which I washed), stirred up some outstanding gravy, and added a salad with a stunning variety of salad dressings. We all oohed and aahed about the savory aroma and taste of everything. It was all going great until I exclaimed, without thinking, that everything tasted way better than the last TV dinner I had that had pork chops in it. Although it was true, it was obviously the worst possible thing I could have said.

So, since I know Diane reads this stuff, I must make amends and relate that the meal she prepared was absolutely one of the best she’s cooked us in the last 38 or 40 years. That’s the truth even though I really don’t have a clue about what I ate that far back, but the number of years chosen far exceeds the extent of my memory of what food I ingested at any given time. Maybe I should have just said that … “I have no memory of eating a better meal than that one.” It’s a true statement.

Except for any time she makes sloppy joes. Everyone loves that stuff. But that’s a one-dimensional meal whereas today’s had many more colors. That’s important, I’m told.

Diane’s Mom, Jean, joined us for that luscious lunch. After dinner we ate popcorn, a little popcorn, some watermelon, and something else I can’t remember. That was all done while watching “Rango” from start to stop. I thought I’d seen it previously but apparently that was not true. I have no memory of watching it so really enjoyed the surprise. Jewel saw it previously but was not a spoiler by telling us what happened next.

It’s 9 pm and getting dark so it must almost be time for bed. I need to get up early tomorrow for another rousing round of golf with the Peal boys. Doug and I are determined to kick Junior’s ass. Oops. Sorry. I forgot that I can’t say “ass” here so please ignore that. He’s convinced us that he’s always on his last leg as we progress around the course, then always manages to beat us somehow. Well, we’ll just have to do something about it, won’t we.

See you tomorrow.

Golf, Thermostats, and the Old Truck,

I had to go golfing again yesterday because I said I would. Diane thinks it’s OK that I golf a lot. I suspect she think by going more often I’ll get better at it. Boy do I have a surprise for her. Unlike most other sports, where that’s true, golf has its own rules when it comes to getting better. One day it’s good, the next day it’s bad. So it goes. The up side of golfing is that I generally get to drive the cart. That’s fun.

Daniel’s PT Cruiser started overheating on him so he brought it over to see if I could figure out why. After looking under the hood for a little while I decided that the thermostat had given up and crossed the bar. For those of you unfamiliar with crossing the bar, it’s a Navy term for “died”. When a friend passes, they’ve crossed the bar. I suppose that could be taken in a couple of ways because of the nature of sailors, like, it could be a statement that a sailor had crossed the bar when he was thrown over one during a fight in a foreign port. You know how those sailors drink, right? Well, you at least know how people THINK those sailors drink. Most commonly, however, crossing the bar simply refers to the point a ship is on its own after leaving port and the harbor pilot departs. Still, it’s a nice, symbolic, mental image for us old guys to consider as we progress toward the end of our lives. “Crossing the Bar” is also a poem.

Back to the PT …

Since neither Daniel nor I had ever changed the thermostat in a PT Cruiser, it was a journey of discovery for both of us. I have a perfectly good service manual in a readily accessible folder on my computer, but referring to it would have removed the mystery of our journey. Instead, we just studied the situation and started taking bolts off things to gain access to what we both determined to be the problem area. Turns out, it’s a complicated process because the turbo engine we were working on was most certainly built by very small people with very small hands. Consequently, gaining access to some bolts whose removal were critical to our endeavor, was problematic and resulted in the loss, forever, of two of them. Each of us lost one, and listened intently as they clattered their way into the tangle of wires and tubes, never to reach the ground. This, of course, required a trip to ACE for replacements. Thankfully, we were had retained possession of a nut of the right size that enabled Daniel to procure the necessary replacements. In the end, Daniel was able to get all the bolts back into place using a more careful approach, knowing that one little slip meant another trip to ACE as soon as all the replacement bolts and nuts were lost. Fortunately, none were lost. One of these days those lost bolts will secure their freedom on the highway and bounce along until they come to rest amidst the rocks and debris near the guard rail somewhere along Highway 30. A hitchhiker may find them and know exactly what they are for but more likely they will sit there for years, rusting, until finally they are once again one with the universe. Happens all the time.

During interludes while Daniel was shopping for parts, I worked on the Old Truck, replacing spark plug wires. I decided to do that when the engine started sounding a lot like a John Deere tractor. It was running on 6 or 7 cylinders because one wire was parted at the spark plug, and another was partially burned through as it rested peacefully on the incredibly hot exhaust manifold. It was time. Part of the process of preparing the wires was to attach the spark plug ends after making sure they were the right length. I didn’t both with cutting them because I didn’t want to. I just took one off, selected a new one that was close to the proper length, then put it all together. As a result, some wires are a bit long for the plug to which they are attached, but I remedied that by winding them around tubes and hoses in the engine compartment. None of them will be allowed to touch the exhaust manifold. They should last a long time. Cousin Don provided me with a handy tool to properly crimp the little metal clips on the wires and I’m thankful for that. Don is my favorite mechanic. He knows everything and has all the tools.

Diane told me there’s a cruise in at the Elks Club today. I might drive the old truck out there just for fun and look at all the nice cars.

Oh ya! Diane’s been bugging me for years about painting it so I began that process a few days ago when I came across an assortment of rattle cans in the basement. I decided to use what I have and see how it works out. The first can only lasted to cover the left front fender. It’s OSHA yellow, meant for hard hats, I believe. I have some green and red that I will try on other parts as time permits unless Diane hides them from me, or throws them away.

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Yeah, I know. It needs another coat and I got some paint on the chrome, but it will come right off with the right chemicals. While I’m at it I may as well put the windshield wipers back on it so I can drive it in the rain, and maybe put the right side mirror back together – it fell apart and the mirror part is laying on the dash. When I want to use it, I just hold it and look behind me.

It’s only a little after 9 am and I hear Diane tiptoeing around so guess it’s time to get productive. First thing up is to print the church bulletin and the church’s August newsletter. That’s my job.

Later

Physical Therapy, Boot Camp, and Long Trips

I graduated from Physical Therapy today. My therapist, Brett, said I passed. Now all I have to do is keep doing the exercises he prescribed for me that most folks on physical therapy don’t do.

The first thing I did during my session was spend 8 minutes on a bike. Today Brett dropped me to 5 minutes. Sitting adjacent to me was Kay, who I didn’t know until I asked her what a nice girl like her was doing in a place like this. From that I not only learned her name, but also that she had her knee replaced a few years ago and comes back to the facility to keep it limber to ensure she continues to have no problems with the knee. I wish Diane could have talked with her. She’s leary of knee surgery, even though she would benefit immensely from having it done. Now I’ll share that by sharing that I’ll be in trouble for about a week. What’s new there?

Diane, my Social Secretary/Travel Agent/Best Cook Ever/Friend, spent most of the morning talking with a couple of airlines to see if she could redesign how we used some airplane tickets we already have in order to allow us to visit Cedric after he graduates from boot camp in September.

The current reservation has us leaving Portland on September 20th on Alaska Airlines to Chicago where we switch to American Airlines for the trip to Bradley Field in Connecticut. Since Cedric graduates from Boot Camp on September 16th, Diane is trying to back up our first leg of the trip on Alaska to leave on the 15th, then pick up the original American Airlines flight on the 20th. I don’t know where it stands, right now, so can’t provide results at this time.

News at eleven.

I must add, considering that I’m sharing the news that we will be away from home for an extended time, until October 16th or so, that the home will still be occupied by Jewel who has easy access to a bazooka, 3 shotguns, a couple of 9 mils, various yard tools, and a flame thrower. Plus the dogs, of course. They will be here, too.

So, for any of you Facebook cruisers who have a notion to visit our home thinking it’s vacant, keep that in mind.

We also have video surveillance installed.

And a ex-feral cat.

 

Cedric’s a Sailor, County Fair, Camping, and Golf

Well, we made it safely back from our latest camping trip and I have a few minutes available to catch up on all our activities. I would have done a daily ‘thing’ but we (AT&T) did not have cell service and there was no internet. We didn’t have satellite TV, either. We really roughed it this time. Those who use Verizon and Sprint were still able to communicate which made me briefly consider switching carriers. Then Diane drove toward Vernonia, to the Forest Ranger Station, to call her Mom, Jean. During that process one of the Rangers came out and told her if she had Verizon she was out of luck because there was no service. But, AT&T worked. So, we’ll be sticking with AT&T for a while.

Before all the camping fun began we bid farewell to Cedric on the 19th as he began his trip to Navy boot camp at Great Lakes Recruit Training Center, just north of Chicago. He is a third generation Sailor in our family. Graduation is September 17th, I think, and there are plans in the works to attend the ceremony. I’m not sure, yet, if Diane and I will attend because Cedric is only allowed 4 guests. I think we plan to leave that special event for the immediate family because Diane and I have non-refundable plane tickets to Connecticut on September 20th. Two airplane rides that close together isn’t financially feasible, so we’ll rely on family photos and participate vicariously through them. We’ll see him when he comes home on leave.

Duly sworn in and officially a member of the Navy. Proud Mom, Dad, and Sister.

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After wishing Cedric a safe journey, we all went home. That afternoon we went to the movie and watched “The Secret Life of Pets” at the Columbia Theater in St. Helens with Bob, Steff, and Jewel. Then we had dinner at Dockside. All of us were stuffed to the gills. By the time we got home it was time for bed.

The first day of the Columbia County Fair weekend was Wednesday, the 20th. That’s the day old people get in for free so we almost always go. There were fairs in past years where we helped and earned badges for daily entrance, but those days are behind us now. We took Gilligan, Baylee, and Jerrie with us, using ride wrist bands and entry tickets that Diane bought ahead of time. She also got wrist bands for Lydia and Jeran so it worked well that the 3 little ones were chaperoned by the two larger ones. It as pretty amazing that the children chose to go see all the animals before giving in to the allure of the carnival rides. Toward the end of the day, Jeff & Heather arrived and took charge of G, B, and J then we went plant shopping. Everyone had a great time. Even the old people.

Gilligan, Jerrie, and Baylee on the way in

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Lydia, Jerrie, Gilligan, and Baylee confront a T-Rex.

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Lydia conquers the wall … multiple times.

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Jewel and Diane with their trusty dogs.

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Bob finally has Steff where he wants her.

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On Thursday, the 21st, we finalized our preparations for our Camping trip at Big Eddy. For those of you not familiar with the area, Big Eddy is a county park situated on the Nehalem River that flows through Vernonia. The river begins it’s journey on the east side of the Coast Range then loops around the north end of the range near the mouth of the Columbia River. Then it winds it’s way SW, finishing it’s 119 mile journey at Nehalem Bay, which is near Nehalem, OR. The bay feeds into the Pacific Ocean.

Diane and I fiddled around long enough to be the last ones out of the chute, consequently arriving last, which was OK. We arrived without incident, got parked and connected with lots of help from those who were already there. Then we started relaxing right away. That means we huddled around the camp fire all day and well into the evening, eating when food was ready, then going to bed when it was pitch black outside. Since the park is booked exclusively for the St. Helens Grace Baptist Church kids could run free, which they did, with no fear of danger, unless they fell down, which some did. It was chilly for the first couple of days so most of the time was spent around a fire, sharing stories and eating.

Here’s the night fire …

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… and the day fire …

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On Saturday the 23rd Bob, Steff, Jennifer, Diane, and I made the 7 mile trip to Vernonia to see what the Vernonia Saturday Market was about. Since nothing else was going on in town, there were only 4 booths open but they all had beautiful quality products. It was good to visit the town. The most interesting part of the visit was learning about David’s story. David is the first person we encountered in a little knickknacks shop on a corner. He was extremely nice, and friendly, and pointed us to his boss’s store a couple blocks up the street. At that store Donna, the owner, told the girls about David and what a remarkable life he had survived. He has Aspergers Syndrome  and spent the first 55 years of his life hidden away from contact with anyone but his Mom or Dad. They didn’t know how to deal with him so tucked him away when folks visited. He never went to the doctor, dentist, or school. When his Dad died 7 years ago, his sister took him in and spent the next 5 years cleaning him up and exposing him to social situations until he was comfortable leaving his home. Donna met David when he and his sister visited her store and was impressed with David’s willingness to help. This led to a friendship that caused Donna to purchase another store which David manages. It’s his store. He’s 62 now and doing very well considering how much he missed during those 55 years of isolation. His store is on the corner of Adams Ave. and Bridge Street. Stop in and say HI, then go to Donna’s store and thank her for her incredible benevolent spirit.

After attending outdoor Sunday service, everyone packed up to go home. Bob & Steff were heading to Pendleton where they stayed at the Wild Horse Casino. On the way they were trapped in huge traffic jam caused by accident. It took them many hours longer than anticipated to reach their destination, but they eventually made it. We made it home without incident since we didn’t have to travel any of the freeways. The dogs were extremely happy to see us and Ziva let us know that it was a dirty trick to leave her behind when we know how much she enjoys camping. So, she will be going with us on all future trips.

This morning I went golfing with Doug and JP. It was a beautiful morning and we all did really well. I had three pars, a new personal best for me. Doug chipped in from 60 feet for a birdie which was fun to watch. It was a good day. When we finished we went to lunch, like we always do. I called Diane to see if she would like to join us, but she declined because she thought we were going to Burgerville, our normal choice. But, this time we went to the Village Inn where I had a very good Chicken Fried Steak, hash browns, and eggs. It was very good and I ate it all. Diane was upset about not going when she found out we didn’t go to Burgerville. It was very good and she missed out.

On the way home I stopped at O’Reilly’s for new spark plug wires for the truck because one wire burned out against the exhaust manifold making the truck sound a lot like a John Deere tractor. I also filled the truck with gas and got a container of gas for the lawn mower thinking I’d get something done outside. But, when Diane and Jewel left to go play around in thrift stores, I was told “No working outside because it’s 90 degrees!” I can only assume the she wasn’t in the mood to go looking for me after dying from heat exhaustion, and laying in the hot sun for hours. That probably wouldn’t be any fun at all, so I’m just staying inside, as directed.

That’s it. Except for this hydrangea that grows by our home.

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We haven’t figured out what causes it to come out in multiple colors like this, but it’s kinda neat.

News Flash !

A “new” study has determined that violent video games are linked to child aggression. This was reported in the November issue of the journal Pediatrics.

Really? It took a study six month study, I think it was six months, to come to this conclusion. I suspect pretty much every parent who allowed their children to play violent games could have told you within a couple of weeks, if not sooner.

Regarding the report … it’s from November, eight months ago, and is just now being reported by our ever vigilant media. Obviously this either isn’t important news, or everyone already knows. Just a guess.

Hmm.