Tag Archives: Diane

Specs, Food, County Fair, & a Luau

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Although the prescription on my VA glasses didn’t run out, technically rendering me blind, one of the bows broke off which accomplished the same end result. The glasses they gave me don’t stay on one’s face very well with only one bow hooked over an ear. Therefore, I resorted to an older version from 2013 that seems to work OK with the exception it kinda sucks on my right eye a bit due to the corrective difference I lost with the newer specs. But, they stay on my face and eliminate any possibility of embarrassing Diane due to a glasses mishap. And, I can see well enough to safely drive my self around town.

Speaking of driving … I’ve been doing that with the old pickup lately and it works just great. As you may remember, I left it with Gannon Thomas so he could work on the transmission because it wasn’t behaving as well as I thought it should. Turns out I was correct because Gannon said when he pulled the pan off, all the clutch plates were laying handily in it eliminating the need to remove them manually. All he had to do was dismantle the transmission and rebuild it from the ground up. Total cost … $1400. Cheaper than a new one. Committing to this expense provided the motivation I need to get to work on the truck and make it pretty so Diane will ride in it. Since I’ve had the truck for the past 15 or 20 years, I view this as a long-range project so don’t hold your breath waiting for updates. Then again, perhaps that motivation will speed things up. We’ll see.

Diane worked at the St. Helens Senior Center last Tuesday with the Bethany Ladies, serving the noon meal. I help with that sometimes but didn’t that day because no one asked me. I may have been involved in something else. Who knows?

Last Wednesday the Columbia County Fair opened, celebrating its 100th year which is pretty significant. I don’t think there were any original revelers in attendance. At least none that I could see.

Diane and I attended the opening ceremony in which I participated with a group of VFW and American Legion members who conducted a flag raising ceremony amidst a group composed of at least one State Senator and various other County Officials, not the least of which was Henry, The Comish, who MC’d the event.

Prior to raising the flag, I had the honor of golfing with Doug and Junior and decided to actually count every stroke and not try the risky shots just to see what would happen. Turns out that’s the better way to do it because I actually did pretty good. I also wore an elastic sleeve on my left elbow which, I’m sure, helped a great deal to keep that errant part of my anatomy straight. Now I’m going to wear it every time I golf and see what happens. If you don’t hear any more about this in future posts, it means that I’m just destined to be a crappy golfer and that this last effort was totally out of character for me. An anomaly.

Yesterday Diane made a run around town, and to Scappoose, for some important “stuff” and I stayed home and did important “things”. Sadly, I can’t remember the “things” except for the part where I took a nap. When she returned we got ourselves ready to make a trip to Brush Prairie, WA to attend a luau at Don & Linda’s house with our PT Cruiser friends. It’ always great to see those folks. We always have a great time.

Now it’s Monday and getting on toward afternoon so I feel another nap coming on. This one is necessary in order to ready myself for a pot luck supper at McCormick Park with our Lions club. Cedric, Jennifer, and our neighbor, Scott, are also going because their two families deserted the area and went to Camp Tadmor down south.

Did I mention that our weather has been horrendously hot for the last couple of months? More so lately? No? Well, it has. Our days for the past couple of weeks have been running in the 90’s and sometimes into triple digit territory. For this old Oregonian, anything above 75 is generally lethal. Odd, though, how daily doses of 90+ can make 80 feel nice.

Hope everyone has a great week.

The Subaru, American Legion, Class of ’62, & Hump’s

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Thursday 2/26

The peanut brittle sugar rush is finally over and I’m thinking semi-clearly now. Diane will disagree, but I am. Really. I am.

Today I ordered a replacement debit card from the Navy Federal Credit Union because the one I had quit working. Totally. I’ve been hanging on to it for a year or so, babying it along because it still kinda worked, but yesterday I finally put an end to it by ripping in half. Actually, it was already torn a bit, right down the magnetic strip on the back, so I just helped it along a little making it necessary to make today’s call. Amy told me it would be in our mail box shortly.

Yesterday I listed our 1996 Subaru on the local Columbia County Buy Sell Trade Facebook site and couldn’t believe how many folks are interested in it. One guy even paid me a visit so it could look at it in the dark. He used his smart phone screen s a flashlight and looked it over then took it for a drive. I didn’t go with him because I was in my PJs’ already and didn’t want to get dressed. I just stood outside in my jammie bottoms and a T-shirt waiting for him to return. I wasn’t worried because he left his car, with the engine running, and with his wife sitting in the passenger seat playing with her iPad. He didn’t introduce us before he drove off so I didn’t talk with her. He was gone about 10 minutes before he returned and drove off after declining to assume responsibility for the rig. That’s OK because there is still someone out there who will. It’s a good little vehicle, and cheap at $1800. Just don’t need it.

I just saw an entry on Facebook reporting that smelling Rosemary will increase one’s memory by 75%. After considering that astounding bit of news for a while I figured it must be good information because it caused me to remember the time I did that in the third grade and got slugged by Rosemary’s older brother. Lesson learned. Don’t smell Rosemary.

I made a quick fly by at the Kozy Korner Kafe to see if any of my fellow MELCA members were there for our weekly Koffee Klash. I was informed by Kerri, our favorite waitress, that I was the only one who showed up so far. Armed with this bit of knowledge, I vacated the premises so I could return home and embark on one of my many abandoned projects. Not finding anything interesting enough to hold my attention for more than a couple of minutes, I decided to take advantage of another beautiful day and mow our yard. I didn’t do it all because I didn’t want to. I did just enough to make it pretty from the street which pleased Diane. So now our house looks kinda like Hong Kong when viewed from the harbor – it’s really nice and attractive, but once you get past the glitter of the front you enter a maze of clutter that’s astounding. In Hong Kong that happens about two blocks into the city, but at home it’s just a quick trip around back.

In the evening I attended our weekly Post 42 American Legion meeting. It’s been pointed out to me on a number of occasions that I really should attend these meetings since I’m the Sgt. At Arms. Along the way I picked up Mac, a WWII sailor, who doesn’t drive at night. Mac is 88 now and doing quite well. The meeting was pretty normal with the majority of us voting to raffle off another weapon this year. Last year we raffled off an AR-15. Lots of folks oppose those kinds of raffles thinking it promotes idiots to wander into a school and start shooting kids, but the reality is those folks probably have easier access to weapons than the one we raffle. Plus, they are deranged and not to be trusted. We were also mesmerized by Doug, our Financial guy and the Post Secretary, reading the past minutes as well as the current state of our finances. His voice has a hypnotic effect on me as he recites the numbers on the page before him, sharing all aspects of our efforts down to the penny. Makes it hard to remain alert for possible trouble like I’m supposed to but I did it.

Bought a new Sony sound system for our main TV so Diane could hear people talk. It was cheaper than hearing aids.

Friday 2/27

I attended one of our many informal gatherings for the Scappoose Class of 1962 for lunch at Fultano’s in Scappoose while Diane took her Mom shopping and to lunch. Diane was invited, as all spouses are, but she wanted “Mom Time” which was a good idea. One can never get enough of that.

Here’s the group who showed up. I used the pano setting on my iPhone to take the photo so the sizes are a little skewed.IMG_0147

Left to right: Eva, Sam, Mary Ann, Delores, David, Jim, Virgil, Darrell, Evelyn, Judy, and Harold. The gal on the end is Jim’s wife. She’s much younger than all of us. We’re all 70, you know, and she’s probably only 63-64. Just a spring chicken.

I ate way more than my share of everything and was pretty much stuffed the remainder of the day which caused me to not remember anything that happened after the meal. I don’t even remember driving home which would, no doubt, concern Diane had she known about it at the time. Learning now is too late and I’m sure she won’t be upset at all.

Saturday 2/28

The last day of February. Wow! I realize it’s our shortest month, but it still went by faster than normal. We spent a few hours of it, sun and all, driving back to Best Buy with the new, broken sound system to trade it in on one that would, hopefully, work for longer than a day. For some reason the original one got stuck in Protect mode and wouldn’t reset. So, Best Buy swapped it out for a new one. Just took two hours for the round trip plus 30 minutes or so to convince the Geek Squad that they weren’t going to fix it.

Mowed the church lawn and power washed Floyd’s mower in the afternoon. Mowed for 2 hours and power washed for 1. Brutal. But it’s really clean now.

Sunday 3/1

Diane jumped up exclaiming it was quarter to 10! and she was still in her jammies. So was I, but I knew I could change quicker than she can so I lingered here at the computer then got in trouble when she zoomed past me to the Buick all dressed up for church.

After the service we took a nice long drive Clatskanie where we had lunch at Humps Restaurant. We all had great meals that were almost too much for some of us. Diane’s Mom got a plain turkey sandwich …IMG_0143

Diane had a hot turkey sandwich …IMG_0144

And I had a chicken fried steak, two eggs over easy, hash browns, and toast …IMG_0145

As you can see, mine came on two (2) normal sized plates which had all the key points associated with a culinary challenge for normal people. I, however, have instituted portion control in my diet which means I can eat pretty much any size portion of anything that strikes my fancy, which this did. So, I ate everything on both plates and actually felt I had room for a piece of pie for dessert but Diane wouldn’t let me order one. She made us leave in the midst of congratulatory exclamations from all the waitresses in the restaurant. Apparently finishing one of those things is a rare thing, worthy of note. Eating a piece of pie on top of it would have been excellent.

Once done with lunch we went down Highway 30 towards Astoria for about 3 blocks then made a left on Highway 47 toward Vernonia. Out goal was to visit the Elk Preserve that’s out near Mist, Jewel, or Berkenfeld. None of us could remember exactly where it was, but that’s were we headed. The preserve, by the way, is where all the free elk in the greater NW go during elk season. They know when the shooting starts that this is the place to be and they show up by the hundreds. It’s quite impressive. Sadly, we never found the preserve, but we did pass a couple of small elk herds along the highway so it wasn’t a total waste of time. We saw a bunch of elk. Also saw a bunch of big and little cows, horses, goats, and donkeys. It was a regular circus out there on Highway 47.

After wandering around in the woods for about 3 hours, we arrived home right at 5 pm, the time I had an appointment with Misty who was interested in the Subaru. Sadly, Misty didn’t show up, but John was there, with Jeff, our son, and he said he’d take it. So, the Subaru is no longer for sale. John’s going to come get it tomorrow and drive it home whether or not he has a valid driver’s license. Then I’m going to go visit the water department and see if I can find out why our newly installed water meter reports that our water usage has tripled over the last bill. It’s not leaking on our side, so I can only believe that the new meter, which I was told is more sensitive than the old one, measures water in different units that the old one. The bill went from $132 to $370. Something’s terribly wrong in River City here and I’m going to find out what it is.

Diane, Helping, Lions, Church Ladies, and KC

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Diane’s sick again which means I have to cook, clean, wash, and follow-up on appointments that she made. That sounds bad, I know, but fact is I LOVE to do things to help my bride. My problem is, normally, that I have to pace myself and ensure I don’t jump in and take things away from her that she likes to do. When I see her doing anything I feel it’s my duty to take over and finish it for her without waiting for an OK. I just do it. Because she’s deathly afraid of me, she’s let me do it, over and over, over the years until, in my mind, it’s the right thing to do. But, it upset her every time. Now, however, that I’m much older and frail, she’s asserted her will and has convinced me that it’s OK to wait until she asks for help before I jump in. She has no idea how hard that is for me to do, but I do it.

When she does ask me to help, or do anything, my response is always, “Absolutely.” Go ahead and ask her. I know that’s what she’ll say because I remind her about that once in a while. I never defer unless I’m on the toilet. That doesn’t count, anyway, because asking someone to help you, who is on the toilet, is just wrong in so many ways. Just sayin …

This morning my task was to pick up Diane’s Mom, Jean, and take her to the church where, every Thursday, ladies gather to work on quilts for Lutheran World Relief. My task was to meet with a technician who was supposed to be there at 0900 to check one of the refrigerators. It frosts up inside and drips.

The tech didn’t show up at 0900 so I waited until about 1000 and called the outfit who was sending him. I was told that the appointment wasn’t until 1130. So, I took Jean home, and went home for a bit, myself, to await my next appointment which was at 1100. That one was for helping relocate about a ton of old newspapers from the local distributor to one of our Lions newspaper collection facilities. Bert & Sue were there with their big van, which was good because we knew it was going to rain before we finished. A pickup truck would have been a mess.

After dumping the papers, I went back to the church to meet the tech for the 1130 meeting. First, however, I forgot and went home whereupon Diane pointed out the errors of my ways and I hustled back down the road. I arrived about 1145 and the tech wasn’t there, so I called the office again and was told, “he should be there. I’ll contact him.” Which he apparently did, because the tech, whose name I do not know, because he didn’t introduce himself, arrived shortly thereafter.

I like tagging along with folks who fix things because I always learn something new. Today it was about refrigeration. He checked out the compressor and it was OK. There were no gaps in the door seal. So, there wasn’t a legitimate reason for frost to build up inside the refrigerator like it does. Now, here’s what I learned …

When a refrigerator is on, and it’s empty, the air inside is cooled to the desired temperature based on the position of the control knob. When you open the door, all that cool air is sucked into the room. When the door is closed, the newly added warm room air causes condensation to form on the cool interior surfaces and it freezes.  Since the interior of the fridge is generally around 38 degrees, the frost will turn liquid and flow off into a drain pan at the bottom of the fridge where the spiders live. It’s where they get their water. If the fridge door is opened before all that happens, another layer of frost is added until, eventually, it gets thick enough to drip pretty much all the time.

The solution? Make sure the fridge has lots of stuff in it. This will ensure there is less air to cool down once the door is opened. Another aspect is to ensure everyone in the church who has a desire to open the fridge door only does so when looking for something that should be in there. What’s been happening is that 15-20 people do the ‘look’ thing, see it’s dripping, then turn up the control to make it cooler. Running too cold will also cause frost to form inside.

Now about KC. She got to go home today, and she sent me a photo of her arm. I’ve been reporting, all along, that it was her left arm that got the new elbow, but she sent me a picture of someone’s right arm.

IMG_0014

 I’m convinced it’s someone else’s. Someone else with really nice fingernails.

I’m disappointed that it’s wrapped up because I was really anxious to see where they put the zirc fittings so the new elbow can be lubbed. Maybe when then cast comes off she’ll share that.

Church, Pigs, and Heritage

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I didn’t do anything today except go to church. It surprised a lot of people. It’s good we went because Pastor’s birthday was November 1st, All Saints Day, so we got cake. We were actually late for the service because we stopped at Safeway on the way and got the cake. It had raspberry jam in the middle. Very good.

After church, we brought Diane’s Mom, Jean, home with us, just like a normal Sunday. It’s a good day to spend with family. Diane whipped up a terrific lunch of broccoli, carrots (for her), mashed potatoes, applesauce, and pieces of dead pig. We have no idea how long the pig has been dead because the pieces were frozen together so well that she had to use our portable jaws of life to pry them apart so she could fry them. They did, I will add, look a lot like pork chops. Tasted like them, too.

Diane also baked a terrific cherry crunch pie, our favorite from Marie Callender’s. It’s frozen, like the pig parts, and will last pretty much forever. We don’t have them often, but as soon as it’s baked, she buys another one just to have it ready for the next time we decide to have one. Marie also makes a pretty good lemon meringue.

I’m curious about that last word, meringue. I honestly don’t know how something spelled like that can be pronounced like mə-rang, or meˈʁɛ̃ɡ, depending on your nationality. I guess that falls in the category with why me, and most people I know, call Washington Worshington. In know, it’s a pretty minor difference, but I’ve discovered that some Worshingtonians take exception to my pronunciation of their favorite state. Funny how things like that come creeping out of the woodwork, like all the sudden naming conventions for some sports teams are totally unacceptable.

Take the Worshington Redskins, for example. Since that’s a double whammy from me, I wonder if it is, in fact, technically correct, kinda like a double negative. You know, like saying, “I ain’t no idiot!” or, more grammatically correct, “I am not no idiot!”

In my humble opinion, I think the ACLU need for everyone to be politically correct in all things is getting out of hand. The Redskins? Really? I heard one Native American on the news say that referring to her as a Redskin was the same as using the “N” word for an African-American. All my life the Redskins were a football team. I don’t believe I actually connected the name to ‘real’ Native Americans until someone complained about it.

Here’s another one that kinda frosts me … African-American. Native American, I get. They were here first, I think, and Columbus thought he’d landed in India. So, those he me when he got off the boat really aren’t Indians. If he had known where he was, he would have called them New Worldians. But African-Americans, to me, is an odd naming convention. If we are going to begin adding our nationality to what we are as Americans, I must be a European American. That’s because I only know what half my heritage is. There could possibly be some African in there somewhere that would make me, say, an Afro-Euro American. Then there’s gotta be Canadian-American, South American-American, Russian-American, Australian-American, Japanese-American, Chinese-American, and oh ya, Indian-American. Love that last one.

Actually, using the African-American naming convention, all of us have only one of seven choices for picking our nationality, based on where we were born.

  • Africans
  • Antarcticans
  • Asians
  • Australians
  • Europeans
  • North Americans
  • South Americans

If you find it necessary to qualify your continent, based on heritage, then I guess I’m a European-North American. But, most forms ask us about Nationality, not Heritage.

I’m getting used the name changes, slowly, and honestly do not have a problem with most of the hoopla surrounding it. It just seems, to me, that too much effort is being devoted to making it all a big deal. I’ve, personally, got more important things to worry about. If you’re offended, I’m sorry, and you have permission to call me absolutely anything you want. If you do that, don’t expect a reaction from me if your intent is to offend me, it’s a wasted effort. I’m a honky, whitey, haole, whatever. It’s not going to affect me or how I act. Honest. I’ll still do dumb things and might even reinforce whatever pet name with which you wish to anoint me.

Wow! I have no idea where that soap box came from?

OK – I understand why people, all of them, have a tribal need, if you will, to identify with their heritage. That’s fine. I think I’ll start putting down Oregonian-North American on forms that ask for race. One of my brothers is Nebraskan-North American, and another is Wyomingan-North American. I’m the only one in my family who married a woman of the same race as me. Diane is also an Oregonian-North American.

This is just getting stupid and I cannot find a safe way to extract myself from this topic other than to just quit. I regret going down that rabbit hole, and mean no offense to rabbits by using that term.

And, I apologize to all the pigs, cows, chickens, and turkeys of the world because at some point in my life I will consume some of you and/or your offspring. I really don’t think you care about it, but there it is.

I must quit.

GI Tract News, Lunch, Kids, Lions, and Mom

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Today was really a long one that was filled with interesting and noteworthy ‘things’.

It started early, for me, when we had to leave the house at 0900 so Diane could get to her 1000 gastroenterlogist appointment on time. It’s terrible having to start a Monday morning so early. As I say that, the memory of getting up early enough to catch the 0545 bus to Portland comes to mind making today’s early start much easier to take. What a life that was. Everyone on the bus became like an alternate, diverse family with whom I interacted two hours a day, Monday thru Friday … an hour in the morning, and an hour in the afternoon. There are some really interesting people who ride the bus, but that’s for another day.

We arrived at Good Samaritan Hospital right at 1000 and Diane was a little concerned about it so stuffed the Buick in a parking space  near the elevator. As she bailed out of the car and headed for the elevator, she flung instructions over her shoulder for me move the car to a spot that might not result in someone calling a tow truck. I did, going around the next corner, parking in a spot about head on to the one I just left. It took about 30 seconds and I think I almost made it to the elevator before the door closed and whisked Diane away to the 4th floor. Consequently, when I arrived on the next trip up, she wasn’t very deep into the paperwork necessary for a first visit to pretty much any doctor. Not all of them, mind you, just most of them. Ya know, maybe all doctors need paperwork on a first visit, medically oriented or otherwise. I really don’t know that for sure …

Perhaps Pat can clarify …

Anyway, she really wasn’t late because they always make you show up a bit early to fill out all their disease-specific paperwork, and sign it to verify that you have told the truth, all the truth, and nothing but the truth. I really don’t know what they say because Diane goes with me to all my doctor appointments and fills all that stuff out for me. I’m spoiled that way. She just hands it to me to sign and I have no idea which little boxes she checks on those things. Apparently she hits the right ones because I’ve never been visited by the Medical Paper Police.

They took her back to her assigned exam room almost right away, leaving me alone in the waiting room with a bunch of strangers. I had my iPad, though, so had a book to read. I also have Sudoku on it which takes up a lot of my time. More than is healthy, actually, but rumor has it doing puzzles like that keeps the mind alert.

She didn’t tell me what kind of exam they were going to make her take, but I knew she was seeing a GI guy (GIG). Though I lost track of how long she was gone, I learned that it was a long time because the doctor who was going to see her said he picked up the wrong chart and walked into his 1030 appointment room instead of the 1000 appointment room. As a result, she was in there almost an hour twiddling her thumbs. I’m guessing there. I doubt if Diane twiddles her thumbs, ever. I bet she was even a little bit ticked to be kept waiting so long. Then, again, having lots of experience with doctor’s visits, and the emergent nature of their business, it’s understandable that they cannot always stick to a rigid appointment schedule. Emergencies happen.

Once the doctor showed up, she discovered that she really liked him. She like him so much that she briefly considered dumping me, then decided that he was a bit too old for her. But, he’s a doctor. With a job. A specialist. I would have understood. Really, I would have. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have understood.

Bottom line for the visit, beyond really liking him, she discovered that she’s a “very healthy woman.” Straight from the doc’s mouth. He actually read all of her history, checked all her labs, going back years, then had her describe her tumultuous youth and told her he was going to fix her plumbing. You see, for many years now, the semi-doctors she’s been seeing have been treating symptoms, never resorting to methods that attack the ’cause’ of her tummy grumblings. What a concept! Fight the cause! I like that approach, as does Diane. She has a much better outlook on what’s going on, now, and will probably be nicer to me as this problem goes away. She said she would, anyway. We’ll see.

After leaving the doctor we had to travel all the way from downtown Portland, to Orenco Station in Hillsboro. That’s a HUGE condo complex that turned in to an entire town around one of the trolley stops for the MAX train. If we lived there we could see all our cars and never have to go anywhere, for anything. It’s quite amazing, actually. Well, it’s more than a short walk to Costco, but a neat place, even so. We were going to BJ’s Restaurant to meet up with Jerry 1, Coleen, Nelda, Linda, Jodi, Rick,  Jerry 2, and Tom for lunch which was scheduled for 1130. We were late, of course, since Diane had to twiddle for an hour, but no one minded. Because everyone already had assigned seats, Diane and I were placed at opposite ends of the tables that were jammed together to accommodate the group.

We ate, we talked, and we carried on for hours until the waiters and waitresses made it clear we should leave. We had worn out our welcome, but we tipped them anyway. They were a good group to put up with all the grief this group can provide.

Then we departed to the parking lot where we participated in a very public display of going our own separate ways. We’re a huggy group. We’re family. We were missing Vie. Jerry 1 departed for Vancouver in his tricked out 2013 Camaro, Tom & Linda left in their little Toaster Car, Coleen in her PT, Jerry & Nelda in their PT, Rick & Jodi in Rick’s PT, and us in our Buick. It’s Rick’s PT, by the way, because Jodi has her very own PT.

Rick, thinking I actually had real knowledge about tablet computing, asked my opinion about one for sale in a nearby Office Max. He wanted to get Jodi one. Jodi, who doesn’t fiddle with computers very much, is particularly suited to a tablet. Not having an opinion to share on tables, except that I really, really like my iPad, he then asked if I would look at it and see what I thought. It’s hard to say “No” when someone trusts you that much, so we followed them over to Office Max and had a look.

We poked and prodded all the ones they had on display, comparing prices, figuring out why some models were more expensive than others. Finally, a young man with no facial hair appears and asked if we had any questions. We did, of course. Rick asked him what he thought of the one he had in mind, and the kid oooed, and awwwwed over it, wishing he could get one. It was very believable, and we bought it, but we still had questions. Some of them he couldn’t answer so he guessed. That was OK because they were trick questions and we already knew the answers. Just having a bit of fun.

Now Jodi is the proud owner of a nifty little tablet with a Windows 8 operating system, which Diane really likes. Now. She didn’t like it on her computer right away, but she’s learned to love it.

An interesting part of this visit was Diane’s encounter with Edith, 81, in the tablet and phone cover display, about 10 feet from we who were haggling over the tablet purchase. This simple encounter highlighted how approachable Diane is because she got pretty much this lady’s life story, all the way back to Japan where her shoulder was crushed when she was very young and her left arm did not grow as it should have. The story went on to relate how Edith liked to change her phone fairly often because she like “flying under the radar.” Reportedly, she lives near her daughter in Orenco Station, making frequent trips over the past seven years to Vancouver, BC to gather information about her father’s military days and his association with Winston Churchill.

Really?

Winston Churchill?

The research was done at her husband’s request, before he died in Florida, that her father’s story had to be told. So, she set about doing that over the next seven years, writing a historical novel about all her father’s covert activities. We’re not clear on the name of this novel because we cannot find any reference of it on the internet, but Diane said it’s “FF1”. Edith also reported that a movie company is making a movie of this story in Hong Kong and offered her $14 million for the rights. Being wealthy already, having earned a ton of money as a graphic artist who designed many of the currently used major league logos, she said she told the movie folks to hang on to that $14 million and they would negotiate after the movie was done and see if she liked it. “I’m 81 … what do I need $14 million for?” she told Diane.

What a story! Diane said she was perfectly believable the entire time. But, we can’t find anything about this book. Elaborate and detailed as the story is, it’s suspect. But, who knows? Could be legit. Either way, we all had a good time in Office Max.

Then we went to Costco to get ‘stuff’, and headed home to see if the dogs were still talking to us after being left alone for over 6 hours. They were just happy that we showed up.

Just before we got home Jeff texted that he was on the way up with most of his girls – that would be Ziva, Daisy, Olie, Gilligan, and Baylee. The first three are dogs. They arrived shortly after we did so we got a dose of hyper energy from the dogs and little girls running up and down the stairs, and in and out of the house. It wore us out watching all that activity from the upper porch. Jeff takes Daisy in the back yard and uses a tennis ball flinger to throw the ball for her. She chases it until she can hardly walk so he has to pace her. Olie, the puppy, runs with her but her heart belongs to Gilligan. Energy plus.

After the kids left Diane and I had a snack. She had what she calls a quickie which is simply two pieces of toasted bread between which is placed a piece of cheese food before the toast gets cold. It’s just a modified toasted cheese sandwich. We had to do this because we had to go to the Lions Club meeting at the Village Inn. Well, it used to be the Village Inn. It’s called something else, now. That meeting lasted until 8 pm, then we went to visit with Diane’s Mom, Jean , for a while. We didn’t get home until 9 pm.

Again, the dogs were very happy to see us return. They greet us the same way whether we’re gone for 5 minutes or 5 hours. Very consistent.

Now it’s almost midnight and I really need to go to bed because I’m tired and I think I’ve used up my alloted quota of words for the day.