July 13th:
I was up first. Went outside to see the new day. Off in the distance, I could hear howling wolves or coyotes, and hooting owls. A hummingbird came over to check me out. He hovered no further than three feet in front of my face for a few seconds, then flitted off.
When we all got up and ready, we had brunch at a popular (and expensive) restaurant known as The Oak Table. There was a wait to be seated. The food was delicious and well worth the delay! As we departed with full bellies, the sun was out and the day was growing warmer than any we had experienced so far!
After brunch, we drove to Port Townsend, which is on the northeast edge of the Olympic Peninsula on the Strait of Juan de Fuca (which splits the US from Canada). In Port Townsend is Fort Worden, a long-ago military fort, now used as a nature area and education center. We went to a beach area that also has concessions, the Marine Science Museum out on a pier. The family headed to the museum/aquarium, while I stayed in the shade by the car with my rollator, just enjoying the nice weather and the scenery.
When I go on these family excursions, it happens occasionally that I don't feel that I can do all of the walking required, even with my rollator. (Depends on how I feel that day, the terrain, and the draw of the attraction. Mother Nature doesn't adhere to the Americans with Disabilities Act. Some places simply aren't accessible if one can't walk on unlevel ground, or for any distance!) We use my handicapped parking placard to get as close to places as possible, but it is always 100% MY choice to make the effort or stay behind. I always come prepared for these occasions. I have my cell phone for communications and picture-taking, bring a book to read, and always have a puzzle book with me to occupy any potential down time. The family and I have an understanding, of sorts, that I do not want to hold them back because of my physical limitations, and that I am perfectly okay with having them go off on an adventure for an hour or two while I stay behind at the car. (If an "adventure" is going to take more than a couple of hours, I generally stay at home. Again, my choice.)
It also occasionally happens that other people see an old lady all alone with a rollator in one place for an extended time, and worry that something is wrong. This day was no exception. I had been waiting, observing, and soaking up the day for about an hour in the shade outside of the car while my family was in the marine museum, when I noticed a young man--late 30s, early 40s, sporting a backpack--walk a good way across the parking lot near the beach to approach me. He inquired after my well-being. I explained that I was just waiting for family...that I was fine...that it was my choice to stay behind. He was okay with that. When I mentioned that I was on vacation from Indiana, he became a brief tour guide, suggesting local places to see, and explaining how things there, weather-wise, are different from the Midwest. (I know!!) I thanked him profusely for his concern and his information. Just then, grandson Ryan came up beside me from the rear. My family had arrived! I slipped my arm around Ryan's back and said, "This is my baby grandson". (My "baby" grandson who towers over me at 6' 5" !!) You know, there are a lot of evil people in the world, but there are also a lot of people like the gentleman in the parking lot who care. God bless them all!
I forget the order of things but here goes:
We also went to a wildlife museum on site on the other side of the road. Since the family had already purchased tickets at the Marine Science Museum, I had to pay; HOWEVER, the delightful lady at the entrance "comped" my entrance fee. This museum was all about the terrain, the wildlife (including orcas), and the way the info was presented was like a children's museum discovery method. When we left, I bought a red hoodie that is way too big. (It was on sale for a decent price. It could shrink some, right?)
We drove through Fort Worden barracks area to near a trail that leads to Artillery Hill. (The road to that place was closed. One had to hike it, and it wasn't to be an easy hike.) Meg, Denis, and Robin decided to try it, mostly to take pictures of old military defense installations, but Meg and Robin soon returned to the car. Only Denis continued on. Meanwhile, back at the car, Meg and Robin spied some deer grazing down by the barracks. They went down the hill to take pictures of the deer.
We went to the Point Wilson lighthouse, which is--or was--a Coast Guard site. The place isn't open to tour. (It is automated now.) The day was waning, and, as is always the case, it was cooler and windier by the seaside. Meg, Den, and Rob ventured to go over the hill to see the water, while Ryan and I stayed back at the car (to eat snacks!). It was here, near the lighthouse, that I saw something I have never seen before. Towering above a utility building was a tsunami warning device. (I say "device" because it didn't look anything like the tornado warning sirens we have at home.) Although there was no risk of a tsunami at that moment, it is still sobering to see. I do so remember the Asian tsunami of 2003...
As we got close to the Guest House, and daylight was fading, we drove down to the seashore to see the Dungeness Spit. (We were squeezing every bit of adventure out of every bit of daylight!!) A "spit" is a marine feature that is basically a sandbar, but made in a particular way. (Google it!) This particular spit is 6.8 miles long, accessible only on foot and protected by the National Park Service. The Dungeness Spit is one of the longest in the world--certainly worthy of seeing. It was windy and quite cool, so we didn't stay long, but another visit to the spit was put on the rest of the agenda for our stay in Sequim.
We returned to the Guest House and had a one-pot meal that Meg concocted. Good thinking since we only had a one-burner hot plate! It was a late meal but good. Thereafter, we played Scattergories before crashing for the night. Long day!!
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Tuesday, July 30, 2019
Washington Trip, July 12 (Sequim)--Day One
July 12, 2019.
Earthquake!
In the wee hours of the morning, (2:42 AM, if I remember correctly), I was awakened by my bed shaking. Then it stopped. My poor sleepy brain said, "Huh! I think we just had an earthquake." And I went back to sleep.
Apparently, three of the four other family members whose rooms are upstairs felt it, too, and were spooked. They came downstairs (where I sleep) to check on me (sound asleep) and to regroup before going back to bed. The children had never experienced an earthquake before. Meg and I have, although not frequently. It certainly was an interesting way to start our nine-day adventure through Washington! The USGS registered the earthquake as a 4.6 on the Richter Scale, centered a mere 7-10 miles, as the crow flies, from the house.
Our target departure time was 1:15 PM. Denis--the quiet patient one among us--put three kayaks and a paddle board on a rack on top of the car, then played Tetris in order to pack luggage, food, and supplies for five people, and still have room to see out the back window. He's a champ! (It doesn't help much that we had to take my rollator, more for the place to sit when necessary than help in walking. The silly thing takes up a lot of room.) We actually departed at 2:00, which isn't bad for so many people to get going in the same direction at the same time.
Our destination for the day was Sequim, WA (pronounced "Skwim"). It is a town on the northeast side of the Olympic Peninsula, not far from Forks, WA, and the Hoh National Rain Forest. But first, we had to get there.
Getting there meant driving to Edmonds, WA, to pick up a ferry to take us across the water to the peninsula. When we arrived, we stopped at a Starbucks first (one of MANY Starbucks locations in the PNW), then got in a queue for the ferry. Interestingly, it seems that the queue is a whole lane of traffic that runs alongside the major streets of Edmonds. We were alerted that the ferry wait was about two hours. As we inched along for an hour and 15 minutes, suddenly the skies opened up and the angels sang. We were directed to a line that put us as the last vehicle allowed on the ferry in dock. Without this, we would have had to wait at least another 45 minutes for the next ferry. Yay!
The ferry took us from Edmonds to Kingston. We then drove through Fort Gamble, then on to Sequim. It was late in the afternoon when we arrived. Denis took the stuff off the top of the car, and we unloaded.
Our accommodations for the next three nights were to be at an AirBnB: Margi May's Guest House in Sequim.
We didn't meet Margi that evening but came to understand that she is a realtor originating from South Africa, with her proper British accent. The house was L-shaped. She lived in one part of the L, and we were staying in the other. Outside, there was a fire pit with some chairs and benches that only seemed sturdy enough for little children. Inside was just as cute as it could be...but...
I know NOTHING about the whole AirBnB thing except that people are offering up their homes/property for vacation rental, stocked with accoutrements that would be necessary for a family to enjoy. Margi's place was adequate, but she needs to take a look at her place with a visitor's eye.
For one thing, there was no stove. A digital one-burner hot plate, yes. A microwave. A nice toaster. No dishwasher. No garbage disposer. And friendly notes all over the place to please not let food crumbs go down the sink or flush anything other than the supplied toilet paper down the potty. We managed.
It seems that Margi broke the bank on the bathroom. It had a nice walk-in shower with a grab bar and a delightful jacuzzi tub, complete with all kind of supplies for bubbles and lit candles, etc. The rest of the house, however, had no non-bedroom place to set up a computer, and inconvenient plugs with which to charge phones, etc.
There were two bedrooms. One had a double bed for Meg and Denis, and a couch that Robin took. The other room (with the TV) had a futon and an L-shaped vinyl couch that was flaking, covered with a comforter. I got the futon by default. Poor Ryan got stuck on the couch. Since he's a thrasher when he sleeps, the comforter went south and he became covered by little pieces of vinyl shreddings. I'm sorry, Ryan!
For supper (at 7:00), we followed Internet recommendations for a Mexican place in town, which turned out to be a bar with a fast-food ordering counter. We put in our orders and served ourselves. I don't think anyone cared. By this time, we were hungry and tired, yet not too tired to hit up one of those frozen yogurt places at which you make your own sundae and buy it by weight. We ate our concoctions outside, although it was quite cool and breezy by this time.
My first impression of Sequim is that the homes and lawns are well-cared for an manicured. Lavinder was in season and everywhere!
The house was well-stocked with games. Ryan challenged Denis to chess, then the rest of us played other games before everyone hit the sack. I think I was the absolute first to conk out!
Earthquake!
In the wee hours of the morning, (2:42 AM, if I remember correctly), I was awakened by my bed shaking. Then it stopped. My poor sleepy brain said, "Huh! I think we just had an earthquake." And I went back to sleep.
Apparently, three of the four other family members whose rooms are upstairs felt it, too, and were spooked. They came downstairs (where I sleep) to check on me (sound asleep) and to regroup before going back to bed. The children had never experienced an earthquake before. Meg and I have, although not frequently. It certainly was an interesting way to start our nine-day adventure through Washington! The USGS registered the earthquake as a 4.6 on the Richter Scale, centered a mere 7-10 miles, as the crow flies, from the house.
Our target departure time was 1:15 PM. Denis--the quiet patient one among us--put three kayaks and a paddle board on a rack on top of the car, then played Tetris in order to pack luggage, food, and supplies for five people, and still have room to see out the back window. He's a champ! (It doesn't help much that we had to take my rollator, more for the place to sit when necessary than help in walking. The silly thing takes up a lot of room.) We actually departed at 2:00, which isn't bad for so many people to get going in the same direction at the same time.
Our destination for the day was Sequim, WA (pronounced "Skwim"). It is a town on the northeast side of the Olympic Peninsula, not far from Forks, WA, and the Hoh National Rain Forest. But first, we had to get there.
Getting there meant driving to Edmonds, WA, to pick up a ferry to take us across the water to the peninsula. When we arrived, we stopped at a Starbucks first (one of MANY Starbucks locations in the PNW), then got in a queue for the ferry. Interestingly, it seems that the queue is a whole lane of traffic that runs alongside the major streets of Edmonds. We were alerted that the ferry wait was about two hours. As we inched along for an hour and 15 minutes, suddenly the skies opened up and the angels sang. We were directed to a line that put us as the last vehicle allowed on the ferry in dock. Without this, we would have had to wait at least another 45 minutes for the next ferry. Yay!
The ferry took us from Edmonds to Kingston. We then drove through Fort Gamble, then on to Sequim. It was late in the afternoon when we arrived. Denis took the stuff off the top of the car, and we unloaded.
Our accommodations for the next three nights were to be at an AirBnB: Margi May's Guest House in Sequim.
We didn't meet Margi that evening but came to understand that she is a realtor originating from South Africa, with her proper British accent. The house was L-shaped. She lived in one part of the L, and we were staying in the other. Outside, there was a fire pit with some chairs and benches that only seemed sturdy enough for little children. Inside was just as cute as it could be...but...
I know NOTHING about the whole AirBnB thing except that people are offering up their homes/property for vacation rental, stocked with accoutrements that would be necessary for a family to enjoy. Margi's place was adequate, but she needs to take a look at her place with a visitor's eye.
For one thing, there was no stove. A digital one-burner hot plate, yes. A microwave. A nice toaster. No dishwasher. No garbage disposer. And friendly notes all over the place to please not let food crumbs go down the sink or flush anything other than the supplied toilet paper down the potty. We managed.
It seems that Margi broke the bank on the bathroom. It had a nice walk-in shower with a grab bar and a delightful jacuzzi tub, complete with all kind of supplies for bubbles and lit candles, etc. The rest of the house, however, had no non-bedroom place to set up a computer, and inconvenient plugs with which to charge phones, etc.
There were two bedrooms. One had a double bed for Meg and Denis, and a couch that Robin took. The other room (with the TV) had a futon and an L-shaped vinyl couch that was flaking, covered with a comforter. I got the futon by default. Poor Ryan got stuck on the couch. Since he's a thrasher when he sleeps, the comforter went south and he became covered by little pieces of vinyl shreddings. I'm sorry, Ryan!
For supper (at 7:00), we followed Internet recommendations for a Mexican place in town, which turned out to be a bar with a fast-food ordering counter. We put in our orders and served ourselves. I don't think anyone cared. By this time, we were hungry and tired, yet not too tired to hit up one of those frozen yogurt places at which you make your own sundae and buy it by weight. We ate our concoctions outside, although it was quite cool and breezy by this time.
My first impression of Sequim is that the homes and lawns are well-cared for an manicured. Lavinder was in season and everywhere!
The house was well-stocked with games. Ryan challenged Denis to chess, then the rest of us played other games before everyone hit the sack. I think I was the absolute first to conk out!
Saturday, July 27, 2019
Washington Trip, July 4-July 11
I had long been told that summer arrives in the Pacific Northwest on July 5th.
When we got up to cloudy and cool on July 4th, the prognostication seemed somewhat distant. I had been wearing sweats but never felt too warm.
I teased some of the locals on the Bothell Community Facebook site about that. Everything I had seen and read about the local weather was that "summer" had been delayed, and I jokingly accused them of causing it because I was visiting. Most of the posters on that site were on board with my jokes, but I did hit a nerve with a couple who didn't understand that I was just visiting in the PNW. They very clearly invited me to leave if I didn't like the climate. Ouch!
On America's birthday, the Fourth of July, we drove to Anacortes, WA, to hook up with a whale-excursion boat that was set up to take us to see fireworks. There was a live band playing near the shoreline. I let the family go explore while I stayed put with my rollator in order to pace my energy for the rest of the evening.
The first thing the boat did was take us on a cruise around Guemes Island and back to Anacortes, where we "parked" at a healthy distance from the fireworks barge. I had stayed inside during most of the trip due to wind and chill, but when we parked, I was lured outside on the viewing seats to see the fireworks. (And yes, it was cool enough that I was wearing gloves!) After the awesome ka-booms and ka-bangs, our boat let out a long blast of appreciation on the horn, which was followed by the smaller boats that were also anchored in the area. Happy Birthday, America!
The very next day, July 5th--the legendary first day of summer in the PNW--we got up to cloudy and cool. Our mission for the day was to go to Leavenworth in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains to see the quaint little town and watch the opening night outdoor stage performance of The Sound of Music. I didn't know it at the time, but the organization that puts this on does TSOM as their first offering every year. This was a perfect venue for the show. There was the stage in the foreground with the beautiful Cascades as a backdrop. Beautiful! For a woman who loves musicals and the mountains (me), it doesn't get much better than this!!
Our afternoon in Leavenworth was interesting. First of all, the further from the coast and Puget Sound, the better the weather became. When we arrived in Leavenworth--after finding a rare and precious place to park, we got out of the car into sunshine and warm temperatures!
I don't know the particular history of Leavenworth, except that it is a place of German influence. The main streets are lined with shops and restaurants of Bavarian appeal. It reminded me a lot of the art colony of Nashville, Indiana, times five! The place was packed with tourists, both foreign and domestic. Denis had researched a German restaurant that we were to try. While he put in his name for the 45-minute wait for a table, the rest of us found a picnic table in the shade in a little park in the middle of town to wait while Denis explored. Megan sent him off to find fudge. What he came back with was an entirely-too-small box of the best chocolate candies I have ever eaten. (I wanted more but was quite certain that they were too expensive to satiate my magnum appetite for chocolate!) Shortly thereafter, we were alerted (by a radio controlled device) that our table was ready at the restaurant.
The restaurant is in a basement location, German food, complete with a "little-old-winemaker" dude playing an accordion. It is obviously quite popular, based on the wait and the number of people willing to. The place was packed! We interpreted the menu and ordered what each thought would be good. I'm not a connoisseur of German food but didn't think I could go wrong with my entree of German goulash. Thankfully, mine was yummy. (On a side note, it was my desire to treat the four of us--Robin was still at church camp--to this meal...until I saw the prices. As it happened, I split the bill 50-50 with Denis. My share, including tip, for the four of us was $110, if that shows how expensive things were. I had budgeted money for special stuff but had scarcely been in WA for a week. Needed to pace expenses. Yikes!)
After dinner, we had a little time to spare so toured a shop or two before leaving for the outdoor theater venue. The weather was taking a downturn. The skies had clouded up and cooled down, and it was beginning to sprinkle a little bit. (Concerning, considering that we were going to spend the next few hours outside.) Meg had told us that the performance would start at 8:30 PM. We arrived at the venue slightly before 8:00. It was only then that she discovered her error. Performance time was actually 8:00, so we had only a few minutes to hustle to our seats!
The theater is on a hillside. I had my rollator. A bus near the parking lot took us halfway up the hill, but the rest would be on foot. When the ushers in charge took a look at me and my posse, we were plunked down right square in the front row, mere feet from the performers. As the usher told me, "You can't beat these seats". And so true it was. The show was excellent. We got sprinkled on once, but the show went on! No one got wet. No one got cold. God was merciful. It could have been a LOT worse!
The trip home through the mountains was fraught with major fog and deer along the roadside. Meg was driving, but even though I was in the back seat, I was behind the wheel every mile--and so was our family Student Driver who is now alert to every circumstance and habit of those behind the wheel! We got home without incident, but the first half of the two-hour trip had been stressful. Whew!
Robin came home from church camp on the 6th. Welcome Home, Baby Beana!
On Tuesday, July 9th, Meg and I packed sandwiches and snacks for a trip up to Artist's Point, near Mt. Baker (one of Washington's five volcanoes). It was to be just the two of us. We headed up through the mountains and stopped, first, at Picture Lake where Mt. Shuksan (not a volcano) makes a perfect picture as framed and reflected in a wind-protected setting. Meg told me that Mt. Shuksan is considered one of the state's most-photographed mountains, and I can certainly see why! Such majesty! Such quiet beauty! The birds, the wildflowers, the small lake that reflected the peak, the snow on the mountain...all a joy to the eye! Neither pictures nor words do justice to the sights and the grandeur!
Our second stop that day was at Artist's Point. Supposedly, Mt. Baker can be seen here in all its volcanic glory. But not today. In spite of the fact that it was sunny and warm where we were, the mountain wasn't "out". (Meg told me that it happens to her every time she gets close. No accounting for Mother Nature!) Here is where we ate our picnic lunch. Here is where we encountered a huge snow bank, the "remnants" of winter snows--which average over 640" per year but holds the world's record for a snowfall of 1,140 inches back in 1998-99. Here is where we drove on roads and switchbacks on the way up and down, and passed one energetic cyclist several times while we stopped and viewed. He just kept on pedaling. OMG!
Over and above all of our side trips and experiences, we were preparing for the piece de resistance--a nine-day vacation, all planned and booked, to see the sights of my lifetime. We were planning menus, shopping for foods to meet our requirements, and hoping for good weather. We were leaving on July 11th.
The family has two vehicles. The one we were taking on our trek is a Honda Odyssey min-van that we call Homer. (Since Homer wrote the epic poem The Odyssey, and Homer is also one of my daughter's favorite cartoon characters, a la The Simpsons. We call it "Homie" as Marge Simpson refers to her husband on the show.) Homie is now actually more of the kids' buggy, and when Robin was out with it on Monday of that week, she noticed that the battery light kept coming on. Denis took it to a Honda dealer and was told that the brakes needed to be replaced soon, but that they couldn't get the battery light to come on for them. He had them fix the brakes, then did as they asked: drive it, and if the battery light comes on again, bring it right in. Yeah...okay.
The next day, Robin had errands to run with the car. All was well until her trip home when the battery light came on and stayed on, and she had acceleration problems. She was close to home (thank God) and managed to limp the car into the driveway. Denis went out to check it and declared that Homie had problems. We are now two days away from our vacation departure in a buggy that wasn't working!! Den called the dealer and decided to risk getting the car to them himself for next day service, followed by Megan in the second car. Didn't happen. The next text I got from Meg said, "Waiting for a tow truck". My heart sank. Everyone was safe, but it was yet another expense of an already expensive venture.
Homie's problem turned out to be the alternator, which most of us guessed but the mechanics weren't willing to figure out. They said that they had tested it twice without positive results, but the third time was the charm. Ya think??
Thus, with a scant one day left before leaving on an adventure of my lifetime, we doubled down on efforts to pack, not without concerns about how Homie would perform. I shouldn't have worried. It was perfect!
When we got up to cloudy and cool on July 4th, the prognostication seemed somewhat distant. I had been wearing sweats but never felt too warm.
I teased some of the locals on the Bothell Community Facebook site about that. Everything I had seen and read about the local weather was that "summer" had been delayed, and I jokingly accused them of causing it because I was visiting. Most of the posters on that site were on board with my jokes, but I did hit a nerve with a couple who didn't understand that I was just visiting in the PNW. They very clearly invited me to leave if I didn't like the climate. Ouch!
On America's birthday, the Fourth of July, we drove to Anacortes, WA, to hook up with a whale-excursion boat that was set up to take us to see fireworks. There was a live band playing near the shoreline. I let the family go explore while I stayed put with my rollator in order to pace my energy for the rest of the evening.
The first thing the boat did was take us on a cruise around Guemes Island and back to Anacortes, where we "parked" at a healthy distance from the fireworks barge. I had stayed inside during most of the trip due to wind and chill, but when we parked, I was lured outside on the viewing seats to see the fireworks. (And yes, it was cool enough that I was wearing gloves!) After the awesome ka-booms and ka-bangs, our boat let out a long blast of appreciation on the horn, which was followed by the smaller boats that were also anchored in the area. Happy Birthday, America!
The very next day, July 5th--the legendary first day of summer in the PNW--we got up to cloudy and cool. Our mission for the day was to go to Leavenworth in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains to see the quaint little town and watch the opening night outdoor stage performance of The Sound of Music. I didn't know it at the time, but the organization that puts this on does TSOM as their first offering every year. This was a perfect venue for the show. There was the stage in the foreground with the beautiful Cascades as a backdrop. Beautiful! For a woman who loves musicals and the mountains (me), it doesn't get much better than this!!
Our afternoon in Leavenworth was interesting. First of all, the further from the coast and Puget Sound, the better the weather became. When we arrived in Leavenworth--after finding a rare and precious place to park, we got out of the car into sunshine and warm temperatures!
I don't know the particular history of Leavenworth, except that it is a place of German influence. The main streets are lined with shops and restaurants of Bavarian appeal. It reminded me a lot of the art colony of Nashville, Indiana, times five! The place was packed with tourists, both foreign and domestic. Denis had researched a German restaurant that we were to try. While he put in his name for the 45-minute wait for a table, the rest of us found a picnic table in the shade in a little park in the middle of town to wait while Denis explored. Megan sent him off to find fudge. What he came back with was an entirely-too-small box of the best chocolate candies I have ever eaten. (I wanted more but was quite certain that they were too expensive to satiate my magnum appetite for chocolate!) Shortly thereafter, we were alerted (by a radio controlled device) that our table was ready at the restaurant.
The restaurant is in a basement location, German food, complete with a "little-old-winemaker" dude playing an accordion. It is obviously quite popular, based on the wait and the number of people willing to. The place was packed! We interpreted the menu and ordered what each thought would be good. I'm not a connoisseur of German food but didn't think I could go wrong with my entree of German goulash. Thankfully, mine was yummy. (On a side note, it was my desire to treat the four of us--Robin was still at church camp--to this meal...until I saw the prices. As it happened, I split the bill 50-50 with Denis. My share, including tip, for the four of us was $110, if that shows how expensive things were. I had budgeted money for special stuff but had scarcely been in WA for a week. Needed to pace expenses. Yikes!)
After dinner, we had a little time to spare so toured a shop or two before leaving for the outdoor theater venue. The weather was taking a downturn. The skies had clouded up and cooled down, and it was beginning to sprinkle a little bit. (Concerning, considering that we were going to spend the next few hours outside.) Meg had told us that the performance would start at 8:30 PM. We arrived at the venue slightly before 8:00. It was only then that she discovered her error. Performance time was actually 8:00, so we had only a few minutes to hustle to our seats!
The theater is on a hillside. I had my rollator. A bus near the parking lot took us halfway up the hill, but the rest would be on foot. When the ushers in charge took a look at me and my posse, we were plunked down right square in the front row, mere feet from the performers. As the usher told me, "You can't beat these seats". And so true it was. The show was excellent. We got sprinkled on once, but the show went on! No one got wet. No one got cold. God was merciful. It could have been a LOT worse!
The trip home through the mountains was fraught with major fog and deer along the roadside. Meg was driving, but even though I was in the back seat, I was behind the wheel every mile--and so was our family Student Driver who is now alert to every circumstance and habit of those behind the wheel! We got home without incident, but the first half of the two-hour trip had been stressful. Whew!
Robin came home from church camp on the 6th. Welcome Home, Baby Beana!
On Tuesday, July 9th, Meg and I packed sandwiches and snacks for a trip up to Artist's Point, near Mt. Baker (one of Washington's five volcanoes). It was to be just the two of us. We headed up through the mountains and stopped, first, at Picture Lake where Mt. Shuksan (not a volcano) makes a perfect picture as framed and reflected in a wind-protected setting. Meg told me that Mt. Shuksan is considered one of the state's most-photographed mountains, and I can certainly see why! Such majesty! Such quiet beauty! The birds, the wildflowers, the small lake that reflected the peak, the snow on the mountain...all a joy to the eye! Neither pictures nor words do justice to the sights and the grandeur!
Our second stop that day was at Artist's Point. Supposedly, Mt. Baker can be seen here in all its volcanic glory. But not today. In spite of the fact that it was sunny and warm where we were, the mountain wasn't "out". (Meg told me that it happens to her every time she gets close. No accounting for Mother Nature!) Here is where we ate our picnic lunch. Here is where we encountered a huge snow bank, the "remnants" of winter snows--which average over 640" per year but holds the world's record for a snowfall of 1,140 inches back in 1998-99. Here is where we drove on roads and switchbacks on the way up and down, and passed one energetic cyclist several times while we stopped and viewed. He just kept on pedaling. OMG!
Over and above all of our side trips and experiences, we were preparing for the piece de resistance--a nine-day vacation, all planned and booked, to see the sights of my lifetime. We were planning menus, shopping for foods to meet our requirements, and hoping for good weather. We were leaving on July 11th.
The family has two vehicles. The one we were taking on our trek is a Honda Odyssey min-van that we call Homer. (Since Homer wrote the epic poem The Odyssey, and Homer is also one of my daughter's favorite cartoon characters, a la The Simpsons. We call it "Homie" as Marge Simpson refers to her husband on the show.) Homie is now actually more of the kids' buggy, and when Robin was out with it on Monday of that week, she noticed that the battery light kept coming on. Denis took it to a Honda dealer and was told that the brakes needed to be replaced soon, but that they couldn't get the battery light to come on for them. He had them fix the brakes, then did as they asked: drive it, and if the battery light comes on again, bring it right in. Yeah...okay.
The next day, Robin had errands to run with the car. All was well until her trip home when the battery light came on and stayed on, and she had acceleration problems. She was close to home (thank God) and managed to limp the car into the driveway. Denis went out to check it and declared that Homie had problems. We are now two days away from our vacation departure in a buggy that wasn't working!! Den called the dealer and decided to risk getting the car to them himself for next day service, followed by Megan in the second car. Didn't happen. The next text I got from Meg said, "Waiting for a tow truck". My heart sank. Everyone was safe, but it was yet another expense of an already expensive venture.
Homie's problem turned out to be the alternator, which most of us guessed but the mechanics weren't willing to figure out. They said that they had tested it twice without positive results, but the third time was the charm. Ya think??
Thus, with a scant one day left before leaving on an adventure of my lifetime, we doubled down on efforts to pack, not without concerns about how Homie would perform. I shouldn't have worried. It was perfect!
Washington Trip, June 25 to July 3.
My first three days at the Bothell house were filled mostly with helping the family pack for their various destinations. Robin (granddaughter) was heading for church camp in Idaho. Megan (daughter) and Denis (son-in-law) were planning a parents-only camping trip to British Columbia, Canada. It was my job, after their departure, to feed Ryan (grandson) and make sure he got to his Driver's Ed classes. I had never, ever, driven while there, so I was nervous about getting him to DE a and back, but I had printed directions from Meg about how to get from here to there. I can do this!
After everyone left, Ryan wasn't an issue for cooking. I offered him food. He turned me down, over and over. During that time, he existed on popcorn and cereal. Yuck!
The first time I drove him to his Driver's Ed class was also the first time I had driven the minivan in years. As we left the house and headed down the hill to the main road, something in the dashboard started dinging, with no light to alert me to what it meant. When I came to the stop light at the bottom of the hill, the dinging stopped. When I started up again, so did the dinging. (This kind of thing drives me nuts. My computer and cell phone are constantly making noises to alert me to messages, etc., but I never know exactly what they mean. Ugh!) I was alarmed. What could it be?? We were probably halfway to our destination when Ryan asked if I had released the parking brake. Parking brake? Who uses the parking brake?? Well, apparently HE does, and he was the last one to drive the vehicle the night before. I reached over with my foot and released the brake. Bingo! No more dinging! Since I live in the flatlands of the Midwest, I never use the parking brake. He has been taught in his D.E. class to use it, even though their driveway is on level ground. Learned something that day, didn't I?!
Ryan directed me about where to go, etc. He was a good co-pilot. I had seen a grocery store--Haggen's--along the way, so I stopped to get some groceries on my way back from delivering him to his two-and-a-half-hour class. Yikes! The prices at Haggen's were outrageous! Won't be shopping there again, but it was nice to know it was there in case we needed other food items while the parents were gone.
After that stop, I headed back to the home place alone, and quickly found myself in a wrong lane. I was in a traffic lane that was part of an on-ramp for an interstate highway! Thank God, I was able to make my way out of that lane to where I actually needed to be. Had I actually gotten onto the interstate, I would have had NO IDEA where I was or where to proceed from there. My life flashed before my eyes. (Bless my son-in-law who said, "That must have taken some time!)
During this time, I discovered that the family pantry was totally disorganized. I wasn't the only one who couldn't find anything in there, so I bribed my grandson to give me a couple of hours to help clean out and organize. We did. I figured my daughter would either thank me for helping or curse me for violating her kitchen space. She wasn't offended. Whew!
Basically, during this stretch of my time in Bothell, I was helping to hold down the fort. The resident adults returned from their four-day Canada trip refreshed; the grandkid at church camp was texting that all was well, and the grandson and I were happy as little clams just doing what comes naturally.
Even the resident cat was okay.
Mission accomplished!
After everyone left, Ryan wasn't an issue for cooking. I offered him food. He turned me down, over and over. During that time, he existed on popcorn and cereal. Yuck!
The first time I drove him to his Driver's Ed class was also the first time I had driven the minivan in years. As we left the house and headed down the hill to the main road, something in the dashboard started dinging, with no light to alert me to what it meant. When I came to the stop light at the bottom of the hill, the dinging stopped. When I started up again, so did the dinging. (This kind of thing drives me nuts. My computer and cell phone are constantly making noises to alert me to messages, etc., but I never know exactly what they mean. Ugh!) I was alarmed. What could it be?? We were probably halfway to our destination when Ryan asked if I had released the parking brake. Parking brake? Who uses the parking brake?? Well, apparently HE does, and he was the last one to drive the vehicle the night before. I reached over with my foot and released the brake. Bingo! No more dinging! Since I live in the flatlands of the Midwest, I never use the parking brake. He has been taught in his D.E. class to use it, even though their driveway is on level ground. Learned something that day, didn't I?!
Ryan directed me about where to go, etc. He was a good co-pilot. I had seen a grocery store--Haggen's--along the way, so I stopped to get some groceries on my way back from delivering him to his two-and-a-half-hour class. Yikes! The prices at Haggen's were outrageous! Won't be shopping there again, but it was nice to know it was there in case we needed other food items while the parents were gone.
After that stop, I headed back to the home place alone, and quickly found myself in a wrong lane. I was in a traffic lane that was part of an on-ramp for an interstate highway! Thank God, I was able to make my way out of that lane to where I actually needed to be. Had I actually gotten onto the interstate, I would have had NO IDEA where I was or where to proceed from there. My life flashed before my eyes. (Bless my son-in-law who said, "That must have taken some time!)
During this time, I discovered that the family pantry was totally disorganized. I wasn't the only one who couldn't find anything in there, so I bribed my grandson to give me a couple of hours to help clean out and organize. We did. I figured my daughter would either thank me for helping or curse me for violating her kitchen space. She wasn't offended. Whew!
Basically, during this stretch of my time in Bothell, I was helping to hold down the fort. The resident adults returned from their four-day Canada trip refreshed; the grandkid at church camp was texting that all was well, and the grandson and I were happy as little clams just doing what comes naturally.
Even the resident cat was okay.
Mission accomplished!
My Summer Trip to Washington State
So many things seen! So many things to write about! Wondering who would care to read about what I experienced, but I will write about it all, nonetheless.
I was at my daughter's in Bothell, WA, and environs for a month; June 25th to July 23rd.
Having been back home a whopping three days, I am finally ready to relate all that we did.
I have divided up the trip in segments:
June 25th to July 3rd.
July 4th to July 11th.
July 12th to July 21st--which will be subdivided into three sections about our experiences in Sequim, Beaver (Forks), and lastly in Portland, Oregon.
Read on, if you dare!
When my daughter first advised me of all that would be packed into my month's visit, I was frightened that I would be able to handle it all, physically. We made accommodations for my infirmities, and all went well in that regard. At least for me.
Meg and family were taking me mostly to places they had already been, with a few exceptions. The real champions of this trip are Meg (my daughter) and Denis (my son-in-law) who spent many hours of time and hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars booking accommodations and buying tickets. For me, it was a trip of a lifetime. I am so blessed!
I was at my daughter's in Bothell, WA, and environs for a month; June 25th to July 23rd.
Having been back home a whopping three days, I am finally ready to relate all that we did.
I have divided up the trip in segments:
June 25th to July 3rd.
July 4th to July 11th.
July 12th to July 21st--which will be subdivided into three sections about our experiences in Sequim, Beaver (Forks), and lastly in Portland, Oregon.
Read on, if you dare!
When my daughter first advised me of all that would be packed into my month's visit, I was frightened that I would be able to handle it all, physically. We made accommodations for my infirmities, and all went well in that regard. At least for me.
Meg and family were taking me mostly to places they had already been, with a few exceptions. The real champions of this trip are Meg (my daughter) and Denis (my son-in-law) who spent many hours of time and hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars booking accommodations and buying tickets. For me, it was a trip of a lifetime. I am so blessed!
Friday, July 26, 2019
Back Home Again...Again.
After a month in Washington State, I walked in the door of my little bungalow in Indiana at 2:15 AM on Wednesday. The flight(s) home were fraught with two delays--one due to gate problems, and one due to pilot problems because of weather in Orlando. Although I was told to expect HOT weather when I returned, the temps were reasonable. I wore long pants, a sweatshirt with a hoodie over that and was never, ever overheated.
I made it through both airports, with the assistance of wheelchair pushers, with ease. The last concern I had was whether or not there would actually be a taxi available at Indy International at 1:30 AM. There was! The drivers are almost always men of color with accents from other countries. Most are talkative. The one I had on Wednesday was not. I did tell him that I'd been gone a month. I asked him if he had family/children, and he responded that he had one daughter, but that was it.
Funny thing about the cabbies. They are usually not very animated until I pay them. The fare from the airport to my house is $21.15. I always tip the drivers $10. They are happy, and I am happy. These poor immigrant fellows are trying to eke out a living in the US. I'm just the woman to help that at least twice a year!
My next posts will be about my Washington trip. Skip them if you aren't interested, but they sure mean a lot to me!
I made it through both airports, with the assistance of wheelchair pushers, with ease. The last concern I had was whether or not there would actually be a taxi available at Indy International at 1:30 AM. There was! The drivers are almost always men of color with accents from other countries. Most are talkative. The one I had on Wednesday was not. I did tell him that I'd been gone a month. I asked him if he had family/children, and he responded that he had one daughter, but that was it.
Funny thing about the cabbies. They are usually not very animated until I pay them. The fare from the airport to my house is $21.15. I always tip the drivers $10. They are happy, and I am happy. These poor immigrant fellows are trying to eke out a living in the US. I'm just the woman to help that at least twice a year!
My next posts will be about my Washington trip. Skip them if you aren't interested, but they sure mean a lot to me!
Monday, July 22, 2019
Failure to Communicate?
Setting:
My family and I are in an AirBnB home in Sequim, WA.
It is morning. I am up hours before everyone because I don't sleep well. I have been outside. It is quite cool and cloudy out there.
When everyone finally gets up and prepares to leave for our adventures of the day, my granddaughter (16) presents herself in short shorts. Since she'd had goose-bumps on her legs the evening before due to cool temps while eating ice cream outside in shorts, I was concerned.
Our conversation:
ME: It's pretty cool out. You might want to take long pants.
ROBIN: Uh huh.
ME: Did you bring long pants?
ROBIN: No. (I think she is being serious, but she is actually being sarcastic.)
ME: I have a pair of capris that might work for you.
ROBIN: When you ask me questions like that, it makes me feel that you don't think I'm smart enough to pack for myself. (I think she is being sarcastic, but she is being serious.)
ME: So you were just baiting me when you said you didn't bring long pants?
ROBIN: Yes.
*Subject is dropped. Child goes back to her room and reappears in long pants. I think everything is fine. It isn't.
We leave to go on our adventures.
Coming back in the car at the end of the day, a conversation starts about public schools versus the Sudbury school that my grandchildren attend. (I taught in public schools for 40 years. It was my life's work. I am still in contact with and helping many former students.) Granddaughter makes statements about how public schools and teachers don't care about students. At first, I was defending the institution but finally realized that nothing I could say would be acceptable, so I stopped talking. My daughter, always quite perceptive, said something like, "We have a public school teacher right here in the car with us who was well-loved by her students, so we should be mindful of that." Just then, we arrived back at our home base. My granddaughter said we could continue the conversation inside. I said, "Just leave me out of it, if you do."
I am joking about the whole long pants thing at dinner. It is only then that I realize that my granddaughter was serious when she said I made her feel that I didn't think she was smart enough to pack for herself. The whole family is present. The word "nag" comes up. Granddaughter is asserting her desire to be independent. Grandma is asserting her desire to be helpful. Grandma is a nag for trying to help when she thought Granddaughter had no long pants, because Granddaughter had said so. Son-in-law asks me why I would assume granddaughter was baiting me. I said, "Because I asked her, and she said yes!"
Grandma now feels...what does she feel?
I am feeling discarded, if not disrespected, as if my opinions and/or caring are not only unwelcome but also just wrong. I wonder how the grandchild that I have adored since the second she was born could possibly jump to the conclusion that I didn't think she was capable of doing something for herself. I do know that mistakes happen, and it would be just like Robin not to mention if she had forgotten long pants. She would just tough it out on her own, without saying a word. I didn't think I was out of line by asking the question but was labelled a nag for doing so. I was also wounded from the anti-teacher comments made in the car at the end of the day. And, I guess my granddaughter also felt injured by me.
The whole experience ended okay. I don't know what forces may have been behind the scenes by way of my daughter's filling Robin in about hurt feelings, but before the evening was over, Robin apologized, and I did, too. On this trip, I have come to learn that some of the little off-handed comments that I make, meant as chit-chat conversation, are taken in ways that I never intend. It bothers me quite a bit. I don't always have the chance to understand that people don't always see me the way I see myself, but I did this time.
Through it all, the day's failures to communicate seemed vaguely familiar. I seemed to recall similar experiences when my own daughter was a teen. Some experiences are universal in that they happen to everyone, but some are seemingly genetic. Yep. This means that my daughter and granddaughter are so much alike that it's frightening. I am outnumbered!
I've learned a bit about modern parenting. God knows, I am slowly learning to butt out and just stay quiet over things that just seem to me to be part of who I am. I have never expected anyone to honor my ways in their lives, but I certainly don't like being ridiculed just for caring. Or am I a dinosaur after all??
My family and I are in an AirBnB home in Sequim, WA.
It is morning. I am up hours before everyone because I don't sleep well. I have been outside. It is quite cool and cloudy out there.
When everyone finally gets up and prepares to leave for our adventures of the day, my granddaughter (16) presents herself in short shorts. Since she'd had goose-bumps on her legs the evening before due to cool temps while eating ice cream outside in shorts, I was concerned.
Our conversation:
ME: It's pretty cool out. You might want to take long pants.
ROBIN: Uh huh.
ME: Did you bring long pants?
ROBIN: No. (I think she is being serious, but she is actually being sarcastic.)
ME: I have a pair of capris that might work for you.
ROBIN: When you ask me questions like that, it makes me feel that you don't think I'm smart enough to pack for myself. (I think she is being sarcastic, but she is being serious.)
ME: So you were just baiting me when you said you didn't bring long pants?
ROBIN: Yes.
*Subject is dropped. Child goes back to her room and reappears in long pants. I think everything is fine. It isn't.
We leave to go on our adventures.
Coming back in the car at the end of the day, a conversation starts about public schools versus the Sudbury school that my grandchildren attend. (I taught in public schools for 40 years. It was my life's work. I am still in contact with and helping many former students.) Granddaughter makes statements about how public schools and teachers don't care about students. At first, I was defending the institution but finally realized that nothing I could say would be acceptable, so I stopped talking. My daughter, always quite perceptive, said something like, "We have a public school teacher right here in the car with us who was well-loved by her students, so we should be mindful of that." Just then, we arrived back at our home base. My granddaughter said we could continue the conversation inside. I said, "Just leave me out of it, if you do."
I am joking about the whole long pants thing at dinner. It is only then that I realize that my granddaughter was serious when she said I made her feel that I didn't think she was smart enough to pack for herself. The whole family is present. The word "nag" comes up. Granddaughter is asserting her desire to be independent. Grandma is asserting her desire to be helpful. Grandma is a nag for trying to help when she thought Granddaughter had no long pants, because Granddaughter had said so. Son-in-law asks me why I would assume granddaughter was baiting me. I said, "Because I asked her, and she said yes!"
Grandma now feels...what does she feel?
I am feeling discarded, if not disrespected, as if my opinions and/or caring are not only unwelcome but also just wrong. I wonder how the grandchild that I have adored since the second she was born could possibly jump to the conclusion that I didn't think she was capable of doing something for herself. I do know that mistakes happen, and it would be just like Robin not to mention if she had forgotten long pants. She would just tough it out on her own, without saying a word. I didn't think I was out of line by asking the question but was labelled a nag for doing so. I was also wounded from the anti-teacher comments made in the car at the end of the day. And, I guess my granddaughter also felt injured by me.
The whole experience ended okay. I don't know what forces may have been behind the scenes by way of my daughter's filling Robin in about hurt feelings, but before the evening was over, Robin apologized, and I did, too. On this trip, I have come to learn that some of the little off-handed comments that I make, meant as chit-chat conversation, are taken in ways that I never intend. It bothers me quite a bit. I don't always have the chance to understand that people don't always see me the way I see myself, but I did this time.
Through it all, the day's failures to communicate seemed vaguely familiar. I seemed to recall similar experiences when my own daughter was a teen. Some experiences are universal in that they happen to everyone, but some are seemingly genetic. Yep. This means that my daughter and granddaughter are so much alike that it's frightening. I am outnumbered!
I've learned a bit about modern parenting. God knows, I am slowly learning to butt out and just stay quiet over things that just seem to me to be part of who I am. I have never expected anyone to honor my ways in their lives, but I certainly don't like being ridiculed just for caring. Or am I a dinosaur after all??
Sunday, July 21, 2019
Prelude
This is fair warning that I am in the last two days of my summer trip to the Pacific Northwest to visit my family. When I get home, I will be collecting my thoughts and writing about my experiences. Those who get bored with that sort of thing should be prepared.
Summer is short in the PNW, so when the sun shines and the days warm up, people come out of the woodwork to enjoy the sights and sounds of this beautiful place. One thing I have discovered about long-term residents here: they love their state. There is no "ho-hum" mentality to the sameness of the climate, nor do folks ever get tired of seeing the value of their resources. For instance, when atmospheric conditions permit them to actually see Mt. Rainier, they have a declaration: The Mountain is out!
I must say that summer has been slow to reach Washington this year. For most of my trip, I wore sweatshirts and long pants. While the rest of the country has been experiencing very hot, humid weather, we have been naturally air conditioned. I have found that Washington is much like parts of northern California in that the weather can change drastically from one location and elevation to another, without too many miles separating them. Unlike my other trips during the fall/winter, we only really had one day that could be described as rainy. We had clouds many days, and cool most days, with sprinkles a couple of days, yes. But most of the time, it was largely dry. Yay!
Before I write a single word about our adventures, however, I have to mention my hosts. Before I even arrived back in June, my daughter spent much time and consideration in planning a nine-day family vacation trip during my already-vacation stay, and spent--I'm guessing--hundreds of dollars booking experiences and accommodations. (It very well could have been thousands.) We bought and planned and packed. Everyone was on board. I contributed a couple of tanks of gas and several meals and treats along the way, and a little spending money for the kids, but my offerings were a drop in the bucket. My son-in-law--the provider for all of this--made it all happen, both physically and financially. He enjoys traveling as much as the rest of us. My daughter is the ultimate tour guide. The children were awesome, even though somewhat inconvenienced by having Grandma at home and on the trip with them. What absolute troupers they are!! I have gained a lot of respect for my young-adult grandbabies. They are awesome!
"Awesome" is a word I will use often in the next few blog entries. I have seen some awesome sights!
My mother always quoted, "All good things must come to an end". It's sad, really, but true. As we wend our way back to the Seattle area tomorrow, and I head back to the Midwest two days later, I'm not really sad. I will miss my family desperately, of course. (My life revolves around them, although I am not sure that they know it.) As much as I love it here in the glorious PNW, I also love my Midwestern roots and my little home-on-a-slab where my disabilities barely show up because the house is so small. Yes...as my radio friend Harold used to say, I'm ready to "change positions". And I'm betting every nickel I have that my family (that loves me) will be happy to go back to their pre-Grandma condition, as well !! Grandparents always say that they are delighted to see their visiting family come, but then are always relieved when they go. I am 100% sure it works the other way, too!
I am so blessed. Please just help me pray that the flight(s) home will be uneventful.
Summer is short in the PNW, so when the sun shines and the days warm up, people come out of the woodwork to enjoy the sights and sounds of this beautiful place. One thing I have discovered about long-term residents here: they love their state. There is no "ho-hum" mentality to the sameness of the climate, nor do folks ever get tired of seeing the value of their resources. For instance, when atmospheric conditions permit them to actually see Mt. Rainier, they have a declaration: The Mountain is out!
I must say that summer has been slow to reach Washington this year. For most of my trip, I wore sweatshirts and long pants. While the rest of the country has been experiencing very hot, humid weather, we have been naturally air conditioned. I have found that Washington is much like parts of northern California in that the weather can change drastically from one location and elevation to another, without too many miles separating them. Unlike my other trips during the fall/winter, we only really had one day that could be described as rainy. We had clouds many days, and cool most days, with sprinkles a couple of days, yes. But most of the time, it was largely dry. Yay!
Before I write a single word about our adventures, however, I have to mention my hosts. Before I even arrived back in June, my daughter spent much time and consideration in planning a nine-day family vacation trip during my already-vacation stay, and spent--I'm guessing--hundreds of dollars booking experiences and accommodations. (It very well could have been thousands.) We bought and planned and packed. Everyone was on board. I contributed a couple of tanks of gas and several meals and treats along the way, and a little spending money for the kids, but my offerings were a drop in the bucket. My son-in-law--the provider for all of this--made it all happen, both physically and financially. He enjoys traveling as much as the rest of us. My daughter is the ultimate tour guide. The children were awesome, even though somewhat inconvenienced by having Grandma at home and on the trip with them. What absolute troupers they are!! I have gained a lot of respect for my young-adult grandbabies. They are awesome!
"Awesome" is a word I will use often in the next few blog entries. I have seen some awesome sights!
My mother always quoted, "All good things must come to an end". It's sad, really, but true. As we wend our way back to the Seattle area tomorrow, and I head back to the Midwest two days later, I'm not really sad. I will miss my family desperately, of course. (My life revolves around them, although I am not sure that they know it.) As much as I love it here in the glorious PNW, I also love my Midwestern roots and my little home-on-a-slab where my disabilities barely show up because the house is so small. Yes...as my radio friend Harold used to say, I'm ready to "change positions". And I'm betting every nickel I have that my family (that loves me) will be happy to go back to their pre-Grandma condition, as well !! Grandparents always say that they are delighted to see their visiting family come, but then are always relieved when they go. I am 100% sure it works the other way, too!
I am so blessed. Please just help me pray that the flight(s) home will be uneventful.
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