Rabbits, Dogs, & the VA

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Tomorrow is garbage day. I know that’s true because today is Monday. Garbage day is always Tuesday. Even on holidays.

While Diane and her Mom were getting their Poodle-do’s this morning I took it upon myself to get the old truck going so I could drive to ACE for some of that RV sealant that comes on a roll. There’s a name for it but I have no idea what it is. It’s really sticky stuff and keeps water out of stuff. I needed it to put around the edges of the fan I put on the trailer. That’s probably all you need to know about that. The important thing about that evolution is that I didn’t fall off the top of the trailer even one time. The fan is properly installed. All I have to do now is figure out where I’m going to get power from for the fan. There are no wires near the hole it’s sitting in. I’ll figure it out.

After Diane brought her new hair-do home she took me to Portland for an appointment with my VA doctor. They said it was a recall but it was really just my six-month checkup. If it was a real recall they’d have to replace, or adjust something. That didn’t happen. All that happened was I was told that all the blood I donated last Friday indicated that I’m fine. My HDL is 135, LDL is 70, my A1C is 6.6. There were a bunch of other numbers on the list but I can’t remember them all.

Then we came back home so I could go tell our neighbors that our dogs apparently killed Cloud, their rabbit. That happened when I took them out front with me while I was working on top of the trailer. They went next door to visit the chickens and the rabbit, which they’ve done many times. This time something went wrong.

We have good neighbors. They took the loss well and said they’d tell their girls that Cloud ran away. I said I would get them more rabbits but they declined. They don’t want any more of them. I’m going to do it anyway. Maybe stuffed ones so if they escape the house and the dogs notice, they can be repaired.

I almost forgot that we stopped on the way home and I almost hit Beth Zelfer with my car door. (Hi, Beth) I did it on purpose because she was walking by, returning her cart to the rack. I knew it wouldn’t hit her, but it got her attention. It was really good to see her because it’s been a long time. She’s a Teacher in Scappoose. She’s actually a retired Teacher, but I think “once a teacher, always a Teacher.” Like, “once a Marine, always a Marine.” She was Derrick Anderson’s teacher in first grade, I think. You know Derrick. He’s a pro football quarterback for the Carolina Panthers. From Scappoose. Go figure.

Now I must contemplate tomorrow. I must play golf. It is a must. Doug said. Also, Stephen Curry beat the Blazers tonight in overtime. He scored 17 points in that 5 minute stretch. Now they go back to Oakland for game 5 where the Warriors will probably finish the Blazers of in round two.

Happy Mother’s Day & NAS Lemoore to Carlsbad, CA

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I have every confidence in the world that each and every one of you woke up this morning with your Mother on your mind. If you didn’t, shame on you. Please stop and, if possible, call her right now. I’ll wait.

***long pause***

Thank you.

My mother left us in 2001 but I still think of her every day. She is missed, and I’m sure she knows it.

We spent the morning at church, then joined four of the Walters clan for lunch at El Tapatio. I ordered the El Tapatio Burrito forgetting how huge that thing is. I did a pretty good job on it but had to take some home for tomorrow. Perhaps it will be photogenic when I dump it on a plate before putting it in the micro.

Here’s part of the church service …

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That’s our friend, Nancy. She was kind of laid back during the sermon.

After lunch we all came back to the house to visit until 2:30 pm. That was the time chosen to depart for the movie that Cedric was treating everyone to. What a guy. It was for his Mom, but I was invited, so I went. It was Captain America – Civil War. Diane and her Mom aren’t so much into those kind of action movies, but I really enjoyed it. Lots of fun.

Now we must leave Lemoore, in our minds. So, close your eyes and have someone read this to you.

I think we left Lemoore around 9:30 am which seems to be our new departure time. The GPS Lady reported that the drive to Carlsbad would take about 5 hours but I don’t think she took into account that we’d be moving through Los Angeles in mid afternoon. Perhaps she did consider that and considered it a push because, as everyone in the universe knows, traffic in Los Angeles is in rush hour mode all the time. It’s quite amazing, really. Normally accidents on I-5 through LA are non-injury because no one is going fast enough to do more that dent things up and make tempers flare more than usual. Fortunately, we didn’t witness any mishaps and made it to our destination unscathed. I believe our success on freeways is due to the fact that we just get in the right lane and stay our of the line of fire. It works well and we get where we’re going in plenty of time with little stress.

On a personal note, I’m the one who drove the LA segment of the trip and I did great! I’m taking credit for that “unscathed” part mentioned previously. Diane put her book down frequently, but remained calm which helped me maintain my composure. Every once in a while, when I was behind someone going the speed limit, she would say, “take him,” so I would. But I did it gently so I wouldn’t mess up the gas mileage too badly.

The Seapointe Resort is a nice place but the photos on their website depicting the facility are a bit misleading. If you check it out the one of the pool looking toward the ocean makes one think it’s right there. What you don’t see is the four lanes of Carlsbad Blvd you have to cross. After doing that, you must clamber down a cliff (I’m sure there are stairs along there somewhere) to the beach. An easier way would be to drive and park on a low spot in the Blvd that has immediate beach access.

We didn’t do that. Instead, we drove north to Oceanside to walk their board walk. It was very restful and allowed us to get our beach fix when needed.

One day we went looking for thrift stores and/or flea markets and found one on the main road just down the street. Upon entering we were convinced that it was run mainly by children of old hippies. They were having a fashion show that was pretty entertaining. The only thing I can remember us getting was a hat for me. It’s called a pub hat and I’ve never had one. What’s interesting is that it’s 55% hemp and 45% organic cotton. I’m not sure, but I think the “organic” part means the cotton was grown in dirt. The brand name is “Hempy’s” and it’s made in the USA. I figured it would be a good golf hat. It’s very comfortable.
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Mostly what we did was relax and read with no distractions. It was very nice, but a week was plenty long enough for us, then we headed back home. I won’t bore you with that part of our trip because it was pretty uneventful. Just lots of driving, something we also enjoy. We think the trip is sometimes better than the stay. It’s in our blood.

Once home my first priority was to get the lawn mowed as quickly as possible before it rained. While I was doing that out back, Diane worked on the wild parts out front. The below photo is a triangular spot, about 15 feet on a side. That’s Ziva peeking out of the jungle. She’s decided it’s kind of nice to just lay down in a bunch of foliage. Funny dog.
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Now it’s time to stop. Diane said. So, of course, I will.

Bye.

First, however, I just have to say that I think Dwayne Wade, of the Miami Heat, is a totally disrespectful idiot. That’s an opinion, but it’s supported by video evidence of him taking practice shots while a young girl sang  a beautiful rendition of the Canadian National Anthem. What a shmuck. Thankfully, the Toronto Raptors won the game and is up 3-1 in the series.

Baylee’s 7, NAS Lemoore, & Other Stuff

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Today our daughter, Jennifer, her daughter, Lydia, and Jeff’s daughter, Baylee, went shopping with my Mother-in-law’s daughter, Diane. That’s 4 generations of girls heading to the big city with credit cards. The occasion is Baylee’s yearly trip with the girls to celebrate her birthday which was last Saturday, while we were gone. It’s a “thing” Diane does with the girls and they seem to love it. Four generations of girls shopping, having a nice lunch, and just hanging out. You know. Sounds fun. I stayed home and mowed the lawn.

If I’m allowed to know what they did, after the fact, I’ll share.

Let’s see … NAS Lemoore … I believe that’s where I left off yesterday.

The drive south from Dunsmuir was uneventful and I really don’t have a lot to share. Diane drove the first two hours, I drove the next three, then she finished off with almost two more. Did you get that part where I drove three hours? Straight? All by myself? This is a new aspect to our traveling routine where I normally sit in the Navigator’s chair, and Diane drives. With a really good GPS system, being the Navigator means I must sit quietly when turns are coming up so Diane can hear the instruction provided by the GPS lady. We haven’t named her yet. That gives me plenty of time to read, which I do, and just look at stuff zooming by. Eventually the truck stops and I look up to see that we’ve arrived someplace. I admit that I actually know the destination because I’m the one who programs it. I have this handy app on my phone that allows me to send destinations to the vehicle’s navigation system.

On a side note, Diane’s truck gets pretty good gas mileage. On one 50 mile stretch it got almost 32 mpg. The overall average for the trip was almost 21 mpg. The old pickup gets about 9 mpg, all the time, so we are pleased.

The high temperature today was 86 degrees. Right now it’s only 85 so it must be cooling off for the evening. As a native Oregonian I have to say that 86 degrees is too hot. It would be OK if it rained and cooled things off a bit now and then but it doesn’t. It’s either hot like that, or wet. In between those two is horrendous humidity. Well, not horrendous really, but bad enough that I briefly thought it was.

Since I was all alone all day I had to make my own lunch so I heated up some green beans and what I’m pretty sure was some left over meat loaf. It was pretty good.

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I’ve whittled away the day by mowing the back yard, our neighbor’s back yard, and by cleaning up the fan I’m going to install in the trailer. The girls are home safely so I can put away my worries and watch the Blazers play Golden State.

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Dunsmuir & Non-USA Visitors

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Wow! It’s been eight days since I last made an attempt to communicate with you. You’d think my failure to do so would be because I have nothing interesting, or reasonable to share, but such is not the case. I’m gratified to know that during my absence many of you have visited the site pretty much every day and I was surprised to see that Brazil tops the list for non USA visits. Yes, there’s some little automatic counter on the web site that keeps track of visitors. Not who they are, but where they are from. It blows my mind that anyone reads the stuff I share, and it’s more mind-blowing (to me) that some people actually return to visit. The fact that folks from other countries drop by, more than once, is beyond belief.

So, thanks to folks in the following countries who spent a bit of their valuable time to drop by more than once: Brazil, Italy, India, Canada, United Kingdom, Australia, Colombia, Mexico, Indonesia, Turkey, Chile, Belgium, Germany, France, and Argentina.

Next time say “Hi”.

Now, what’s happened in the last 8 days? I believe I left you hanging with an offhand comment about “on our drive south”. One would think we were on a trip, or something. Well, that is truly the case. We drove to Southern California, Carlsbad, to be specific, because we recently heard that the San Andreas Fault is about to create havoc and break that part of California off into the Pacific Ocean. That’s not true, of course. We just go there once in a while so Diane can get her SoCal “fix”. It’s one of her favorite places in the world.

Our first night was spent in Dunsmuir, California which isn’t too far over the Oregon/California border. Just a little bit past the spot where the California Fruit Inspectors make all south bound travelers stop and lie about the fruit they aren’t supposed to have. We actually didn’t have to lie this time because we really didn’t have any in the truck. I don’t think.

Dunsmuir is a small town when viewed from the comfort of your vehicle as you fly by on the freeway. We’ve done that dozens of times of the years. Because of this Diane thought it might be interesting to see what lies beyond the visible layer we’re used to seeing. She booked a room at the Cedar Lodge Motel which, oddly enough, is part of that first, visible layer.

We arrived in the are in plenty of time to look around, so we did. It wasn’t our intention to do so immediately upon arrival, but a wrong 50/50 choice about which way to turn to get to the motel settled that for us. We went right at the first Dunsmuir exit, instead of left, and wound up driving down the left side of the freeway to the next exit, crossed the freeway, and drove back up the other side to our motel. Had we turned right instead, the motel is about two blocks down.

Once we got checked in, as the only occupants of the motel, we went down Dunsmuir Avenue in search of Yaks on the 5, the recommended place to eat. It’s a fancy hamburger joint that’s spendier that most, and better than rest, we were told. We can attest to that being an absolute truth, and worth every penny. The food is absolutely magnificent and we echo the recommendation.

On a sides note, I must admit that I once ate a yak burger and found it to be pretty good. It was in Washington state, not far from home. That doesn’t have anything to do with Yak’s on the 5, and they don’t serve yak meat. I don’t think. Perhaps they should.

We retired early so we could hit the road early the next morning. Next stop was NAS Lemoore, which is a little south of Fresno, CA. They have a very nice Navy Lodge that we’ve used previously that rivals any Hilton we’ve ever stayed in.

I’ll discuss the Dunsmuir to Lemoore leg of the trip tomorrow. If I remember. Perhaps my First Wife will remind me.

In addition to my foreign visitors, thanks, also, to all of you USA folks who account for thousands of visits to this site. I know you are probably related, or personal friends, and only visit to see what kind of stupid predicaments I’ve been in, or to find out which body part I’ve injured. I must admit that I, too, find that last part entertaining, a couple of days after the fact.

Who Are Those Old People?

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A couple of days ago, on our way south, Diane needed something that could only be obtained at a grocery store. So we pulled off the freeway and found one.

As we were walking up to the store Diane said, “Look at those old people walking toward us.”

I looked around to see who she was talking about but didn’t see anyone. Then she pointed out our reflections in the windows of the store. Once she brought it to my attention I immediately recognized the good-looking young lady but it took a beat or two to realize the old guy was me. That’s understandable, I think, because I’ve never really paid much attention to me walking toward me in a reflection.

I will pay more attention in the future.

Dunsmuir to Naval Air Station Lemoore

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The title is our current location, the one we attained on the long drive from Dunsmuir. Driving tasks were shared, which is new for our trips. We’ve established a new pattern where Diane starts us off, I drive the middle, and she ends it. Works just great. I drove for 2 hours and 4 minutes. She drove the other 5. Doesn’t seem fair, I know, but that’s way better than her driving all 7 of them, which she’s been known to do. It’s nice to know that she trusts me now.

While in Dunsmuir we had time to wander around a bit and learned that there’s way more to the place than the little bit one sees while flying by on the freeway. It’s an old town which we confirmed by visiting the local cemetery. We do that once in a while because we find it very interesting. I even took photos, like normal. The three headstones shown captured my interest the most. The first one because it’s a military stone commemorating a gentleman who was in the Indian Wars. Never seen one of those before. The older two were important to me because they were obviously hand-made and didn’t have dates. Just the names Pa and Ma Rafferty.

Then this church jumped up in front of us and demanded a photo of its own. Really nice stone work. Beautiful.

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One of the most anticipated portions of this trip was when we went by Shasta Lake. The last few times we’ve been this way, the lake has been nearly empty. We were happy to see that it was full, once again.

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I tried taking a photo when we crossed the bridge, but that didn’t work out very well. So, Diane drove down to the moorage on the other side, something we’ve never done before. It was good to see the recovery up close and personal.

Somewhere along the line, noonish I think, we stopped to eat brunch. I found a place using my iPad that looked promising and that’s where we went. It was a country-style place where everything is home-made on site. Nice. I think they shipped the eggs in from someplace because we couldn’t hear any chicken noises. Same for the bacon … no pig noises. There was, however, a cow out back. I think.

Anyway, we both had omelets and fried potatoes with non-noutrishonal white bread toast. It’s our favorite. While eating, Diane saw a guy digging around in the garbage for something to eat. Sitting there with a nice meal in front of us required that we take action. I went out and introduced myself and saw that he was articulate and didn’t appear to be incapacitated. I asked if I could buy him a meal and he said that would be great. I escorted him inside and turned him over to the hostess, then gave him $20 so he could get whatever he wanted. He chose to sit by himself and ordered a huge order of biscuits and gravy. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to bolt and spend the money on something less healthy, I left him alone. He said his name is John and he’s from Longview, Washington.

Figure the odds of that. We’re from St. Helens, Oregon, 800+ miles from home and John is from Longview which is only about 15 miles away from our home. Diane and I call these chance meetings “God Moments” because we feel we are led to moments in time where we have a chance to make a good decision. It’s gratifying to make the right one.

Getting John fed allowed me to return to Diane and enjoy my Denver omelet.

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And Diane got a good cup of coffee …

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Now we’re enjoying our stop at NAS Lemoore. When we arrived the fighter jets were landing and taking off, making lots of noise. That was going on when Diane called her Mom to relate our day. She had to stop a few times because she couldn’t hear and I asked if I should call the front desk and complain about the noise. She didn’t think it would be a good idea, considering where we were and all.

I could only agree. Then we ate soup and called it a night.

 

Carl The Waiter

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If you ever find yourself out near Mall 205 which is, oddly, next to I-205, and thoughts of Italian food tickle your taste buds, you might find it worth your time to stop at the Olive Garden. We did that last Friday after Lydia’s soft ball team waxed Rex Putman High School 16-0. It’s the first time they’ve beat them so it was a serious victory and we celebrated.

We also celebrated Diane’s and my 48th anniversary, and Daniel’s birthday (a little early). We all had excellent meals and it was topped off when our waiter, Carl, asked if he could sing us a song. Thinking it was going to be Happy Birthday, we said sure. To our surprise, and delight, Carl thought a bit, started snapping his fingers, and treated us, and everyone in our vicinity, with a stellar rendition of Frank Sinatra’s “You Make Me Feel So Young”. He was incredible and caused everyone around us to stop eating so they could just listen. This guy should be on Broadway.

So, if you go to this Olive Garden, ask to be seated in Carl’s serving area. It’s his full-time job. Why, with that talent, we don’t know. But he’s happy.

Ask him to sing a song.

 

Weather, Hewlett Packard, Politics, and Religion

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It’s Saturday and I’ve spent most of the day printing “stuff” while Diane actually worked. She’s the best. I would have helped her but misunderstood the instructions she gave me. There will be payback for that at some point in time and it will come as a surprise to me. That’s OK. Instead, my faithful HP Photosmart 7520 all-in-one printer got a serious workout.

Oregon spring weather is holding true to form … sunshine and rain at the same time quite often. Sometimes a downpour followed shortly by clear skies. Funny stuff. Soars to 88-90 for two days with nights down in the 50’s, then  65 for a week with nights into the 40’s. It’s the kind of weather that plays havoc with people who are prone to breathing issues.

Perhaps you’ve figured out that I don’t have much to write about. I could touch on politics, again, but that’s a broken record lately. The news is full of that topic. The one thing I will say is that it really doesn’t matter how any of us vote because those crafty “delegates” will have their way regardless of how a popular vote goes. That saying that “Your Vote Counts” is fiction. It really doesn’t. The vote go the way big money wants it to go. Simple as that.

That’s strictly my opinion, of course. That’s an admission that I may be wrong. But, I doubt it. That’s another opinion.

There’s always religion, the other forbidden topic of social conversation. Because of that, it’s naturally fun for me to talk about it, and share more of my opinions. Like, most religions preach Peace & Love. There are, of course, sects that do not preach P&L and we hear about them on the news all the time. Still, those that do promote P&L vastly outnumber those who don’t so why don’t we gang up on them and put an end to all the bickering and blood shed? Well, because all those different religions that preach the good news have their own belief system in how things show happen which are typically at odds with those who do things differently. So, there’s conflict within. That will only change when there’s just one religion in the world, and that’s just what every religion in the world believes … theirs is the best. That’s another opinion, if you’re counting.

I should probably stop, now, before I can’t get out of this hole.

I wish Peace & Love to each and every one of you, no matter how you praise your God, your Higher Power, or whatever.

4/20 isn’t just for Stoners …

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Yesterday Diane and I celebrated the completion of our 48th year of wedded bliss. It’s been an incredible journey, so far, filled with some sad times, scary times, adventurous times, and most of all, happy times. I’m a lucky guy. As long as I’m with my bride, I’m convinced that nothing is impossible. I tell her frequently that she has the best husband in the entire world and she always agrees. But, I only say that, when I’ve done something good.  When she’s searching for band aids, or driving me to the emergency room for another new nick, or ding, I’ve learned that pointing out what a great husband I am is met with disdain.

Over the years I’ve conditioned her to expect some exciting injuries to the point where I think she no longer questions her sanity for voluntarily joining in this adventure.  We’ve weathered much together and we have lots more to do.

Our anniversary gifts to each other this year were bicycles and a promise to use them frequently. I got them all put together (they came in a box) without mishap for which we were both thankful. Then, while cutting the plastic tie wraps from our helmets, I managed to stab my left thumb with a box knife. The puncture is about 1/4″ deep and went under the thumbnail. Considering how badly it hurt when it happened, I’m pleased to announce that it didn’t affect my golf game one bit. I still golf just as bad as I used do.

After wishing us a Happy Anniversary, our son, Jeff, pointed out that Diane and I were married on most stoners favorite day – 4/20. It’s nice to be recognized for choosing such a popular day but I cannot take credit for it. Diane chose the day because our birthdays are both on the 20th of our respective months and she thought getting married on the 20th would help me remember it. So far it’s worked nicely.

Now it’s bed time.

Me and My Saw, and Other Fun Stuff

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While packing our stuff into our “new” trailer, Diane discovered that the utensil holder thing was too big for the drawer. Therefore, I was commissioned to create dividers with some of the spare wood I have lying around in the basement. To do that required the use of a saw. Even though I had tons of wood of varying size I couldn’t find five pieces of the proper length.

Considering my last encounter with my table saw (1/8″ kerf in my left forefinger that required 6 stitches to close) I’m sure you can imagine my concern about testing my dexterity again.

For this project I chose 1/2″ wood which is handy because most of my fingers are more than 1/2″ thick lessening the possibility of cutting one of them clean off. Also, I only raise the blade enough to clear the piece I’m cutting which makes it even better because there’s only 1/8″ or so sticking above the wood. The worst that could happen if I, say, lost my balance while running a piece through the saw, is I’d get another 1/8″ kerf, 1/8″ deep, and as long necessary to regain my balance and remove my hand from the blade.

About now I suspect those who know me are holding their hand to their mouth, and their eyes are really big, because you’re thinking that I managed to cause myself significant damage. So, I must point out, that the above details only provide possibilities for damage, none of which I endured.

Instead, I managed to cut all the pieces I needed to get the job done, turned my saw off with a well deserved sense of satisfaction, then, for some unknown reason, managed to stick my right forefinger into the blade just before it stopped spinning. Actually, my finger caused it to stop. The result isn’t as magnificent as you might expect. It’s just a tiny little thing, hardly 1/4″ long. And, It’s not deep enough to count as a bona-fide kerf.

Upon noticing the blood attempting to escape the injured digit, I immediately applied pressure with my opposing right thumb which caused me to wonder, to myself, if that’s what opposing thumbs are all about. I mean, if you hurt the inside area of any finger, the associated thumb if perfect for applying pressure. Maybe it’s not about grasping tools at all. It’s a medical issue.

Anyway, I presented myself to Diane, with pressure applied, and the conversation went something like this.

She looked at my hand, then into my eyes and asked, “What did you do this time?”

Feeling properly warned, I responded, “I cut my finger.”

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t looked at it yet.”

“Well, let’s look.”

I held my hand over the sink as we both looked at my finger with growing interest, then removed my thumb from the wound.

When nothing profound spurted from the tiny wound, we both leaned closer for a better look, and she said, “do you think it needs stitches?”

Noticing the absence of flowing blood, I said, “no, what do you think?”

I was proud of the way I turned that decision over to her and especially liked her concurrence that it was a fairly insignificant wound. She had removed the supply of bandages from the Bandage Drawer during the early stages of this investigation so had a couple of large ones ready to apply once it was determined no stitches were needed.

The bandage pressure relieved the pain for which I was grateful because it was moving from a 4 to a 5 on the Pain Scale doctors use. Normally small wounds like this are a solid 2-3 but the ones on the end of any digit are always worse. I know this because I’m an expert on finger injuries.

After getting the bandages applied I went back to my task of building the silverware divider. All I had to do was glue it together. I would have nailed it but didn’t know where the small nails were. Since I was using Gorilla Glue I figured nails would be overkill so just applied some and clamped it all together for a few hours. It’s a test, really, to see how long it will last without nails.

The trailer is mostly packed for a short inaugural journey to Hood River. The water tank has been thoroughly disinfected following the instructions Diane gave me, using the exact amount of bleach required to make it nice and clean. I did that yesterday. Continuing to follow the instructions, I drained all the water from the tank, and lines, and refilled it with fresh water which I also drained. Then I filled it again and discovered that bleach, in even very small amounts, burns one’s tongue. So, I drained it and filled it again.

Diane can taste it first this time. I’m done with that.

To finish off our evening we went down the hill to Campbell Park to watch another one of Lydia’s softball games. They played Sandy High School and beat them 8-2. Lydia had a triple to center field, and a couple of singles. She’s been hitting the ball very well lately as have most of the other girls on the team. Over the last three games they’ve beat their opponents a total of 43-6.

While at the game I called my Brother, Jim, to wish him a Happy 79th Birthday. I call him every year to do that, adjusting the age accordingly. Turns out that he, Donna (Jim’s first wife), Steffani (their favorite daughter), and Bob (Steffani’s significant other) we in La Grande watching Maryssa (Steffani & Bob’s favorite daughter) play softball for Eastern Oregon University. I was glad he was with family and enjoying himself. Watching Maryssa play is lots of fun, as is watching Lydia.

During all of our trips to and from the trailer today, Ziva became very concerned about our pending departure. She found it necessary to be within visual range of me at all times for fear that I would ditch her and disappear. The other dogs didn’t care, and the cat never cares. But, they are all going to have company during our absence as Jeran is staying with them. It will be OK. Then, on our next trip, all the dogs will go with us. If the cat cared even a tiny little bit, she could go, too. But she doesn’t.

Now my day is complete and I must nap.