Captain's Log, Kid Patrol--Day 5

I was up early, as usual.
The grandchildren's father told me yesterday, when they left for Muncie, that he would have them back here in 24 hours--which would make their return around 10:00 AM.  I skipped church in order to be here for their arrival (but did watch the service online).
It didn't happen.
When I mentioned it to my daughter online, she informed me (from California where she and husband are on vacation) that they were on their way.  She knows because she can track their phones!!  (Modern technology is a whiz!)  I figured they were an hour away, based on the location she gave me, but they still didn't get here.  She then said it looked like they had stopped at the other grandparents' house here in Plainfield.  They finally showed up somewhere around 2:15. 
Truly, it didn't matter.  I just wanted to be able to plan...

The kids came back looking somewhat tired and maybe bored.  I gave them a choice about food, and we decided to do fast food later in the day, around 4:00.  We went to Culver's--a place they don't have in Washington.  After Culver's, we made a stop at Five Below and Dollar Tree, just for grins.  (Actually, Ryan needed to purchase a toothbrush and paste, and I happily footed the bill!)

After we got home, I noticed that The Graduate was being shown on the TCM network.  I invited Robin to watch it with me.  (Didn't even ask Ryan, since he usually doesn't like those things.)  Robin turned me down.  She was in her room, supposedly studying for the SAT test.  I was prepared to watch the movie alone...but Ryan came out of his room and watched it with me...and seemed to enjoy it!  He had no idea who Dustin Hoffman is but did recognize most of the Simon and Garfunkel music.  That's a win, isn't it?

When the movie was over, I figured that would be the end of the evening.  It was late; but I was wrong.  Robin emerged from her room and fixed herself an omelet and a smoothie, then Ryan came out and did the smoothie thing.  The kids were actually winding UP just as I was winding DOWN.

And now, it is 12:42 AM.  I am going to bed.  The kidlets will no doubt be up half the night.  No biggie.  I'm not waking anyone up tomorrow.  They will get up when they get up! 

Captain's Log, Kid Patrol--Day 4

The children's father was slated to pick them up at 9:00 AM to go to Muncie to visit the stepmom's mother.  Both seemed to be dead-asleep when I woke them at 8:00.  Ryan got up and fed himself.  His sister was still snoozing at 8:30.  Fortunately, Dad was a tad late picking them up, so Robin had a healthy breakfast, and both were ready to go on time.  They will be back tomorrow mid-morning.

I took the opportunity to go to Aldi to replace fresh fruit already used.
I'll also get a shower while the kids are gone since one of them removed my hand-hold appliance on the edge of the tub.    

When the children return, we will try to etch out a schedule for the next few days based on interest.  One of them is already committed to a new online game that is coming out.  The other may have plans to visit with a local friend.  We'll see!

Captain's Log, Kid Patrol--Day 3

I was up early with a sour stomach and sore shoulder.  Took some meds and went back to bed.  Slept late!

The kids' father and stepmother were driving down from north of Chicago and were due to pick them up this early afternoon for a visit.  Ryan was up first and took a shower.  He came out to the patio where I was sitting to tell me that the hot water knob on the bathtub was broken.  He couldn't get the water turned off and had a look of terror on his face, like he'd done something wrong.  Uh oh.  I went in, thinking it was probably just another quirk of this old house.  Grandma to the rescue, right?  Wrong!

The water was running full tilt and the tub was filling up because the drain is running slowly.  The knob to turn the water off just spins...and Grandma doesn't know where the shut-off valve is.  Help!
I noticed that Good Neighbor Fred was out mowing his lawn, so I hailed him to come over.  He found the shut-off valve to get the water to stop, then started asking for tools to pop the cap of the knob off...then tightened the screw that is under the cap.  Voila!  Knob now turns again.  He restored the water flow to the tub...and another crisis was averted.  Thank God for Neighbor Fred!!
I didn't have to call the plumber.
Robin didn't have to shower at the other grandparents' house.
God's in his Heaven; all's right with the world!

Got the kids fed.  (Actually, Ryan fed himself cereal.)  Both were showered, dressed, and looking pretty spiffy when their dad showed up at 2:00 or so, then they all left together to go to the paternal grandparents' house about a mile from me for the afternoon.  Whew!

It was after 9:30 PM when the kids returned.  We sat at the table for a few minutes.  Robin fixed herself a smoothie, then both disappeared into their bedrooms at about 10:30, with Grandma right behind them.  Long day!   

Captain's Log, Kid Patrol--Day 2

Last evening, Grandpa Phil called and talked to Ryan (our grandson) about helping with a clothes-sorting project at church.  Ryan agreed to do it.  Grandpa said he would call at 9:00 AM and pick Ry up at 10:00.  That didn't happen, but Ryan was up around 10:00 when Grandpa did call.  He had some cereal, took a shower, and was ready to roll when Grandpa got here around 11:00 or so to pick him up.

Meanwhile, Grandpa told me that Grandma Judy was waiting for a call from Robin (our granddaughter) about going clothes shopping.  Since Robin wasn't even up yet, he suggested I call Grandma to inform her of he situation.  Instead, I woke Robin and told her that she was supposed to call her other grandmother, and things went on from there.  Robin fixed herself an omelette; Grandma Judy picked her up; and off they went.

I had errands to run.  When I finally pulled myself together a couple of hours later, I left Ryan a note in the house, and left the front door open in case he got home before I got back...but as I was sitting in the car about to depart, I thought, DUH, just text him!  And as I was doing so, Grandpa's "big brue truck" showed up in the drive and unloaded one tall kid with a soft drink in his hand.  They had done their deeds, and Grandpa had taken Ry to Culver's for lunch before delivering him back to me.  He decided to ride along with me.

We went first to a smoke shop, then to Meijer for cash and odds and ends, then stopped at Walgreen's to pick up a prescription of mine.  When we returned, he went back to his room, which seems to be standard for the kids, and I waited for Robin's return.

When Robin came back with her treasures from shopping with Grandma Judy, she had to come to the patio because, somehow, I had automatically locked the front door as was actually out on the patio when she returned.  Oops!  She showed me her purchases, and since the time was right, we decided to go to Cracker Barrel for supper.  After we left with our bellies full, Robin asked if she could drive us home, and I let her.  (Never mind that I don't have appropriate insurance!)  She did okay.  I think she takes corners a bit too fast and brakes later than I like, but mine was a strange buggy for her.  She did okay.  The only scary part was when she asked me if the second pedal was the brake, and then put the parked car in drive instead of reverse...but who's counting?  (wink, wink, Robin!)

After supper, we talked about a zillion topics, too numerous to mention, but all quite enriching.  Robin did a little paint job for me on the oval mirror in my living room, as requested.  (I'm quite grateful for that, actually.)

Awhile later--quite late--both kids made smoothies for themselves and hit the sack.  I'm not sure that either one of them is tired enough to go to sleep, but they are tired enough of Grandparent Time!  They tolerate us.  I'm okay with that.  We won't be around forever to ruin their fun.  That's up to their parents!!

Captain's Log, Kid Patrol--Day 1

The grandchildren are due to arrive at Indy International from Seattle around 5:30 PM today. 
My cleaning gal came bright and early (9:00 AM) to spiff up the house.  Between the two of us--mostly her--we got the house as clean as it can be for an old bungalow.  She left around 11:30 or so.  I tackled some laundry and other details, and kept in touch with my daughter in Seattle via internet to know what was what.  When the time came, I started tracking the kids' flight online. 

The plan was for the children to text me when they touched down.  That would be my cue to head for the airport, which is only ten minutes away.  I would drive to the cell phone lot and await another text from them indicating that they were at the curb awaiting pickup.  Grandma Judy wanted to come with me, so we were both at my house, hoping for the best.

The flight went relatively flawlessly.  When I got the "touchdown" text, we waited about ten minutes, then went to the airport's cell phone waiting area.  Just as we turned into the lot, we got the text that the kids were at the curb, so we turned around to go to the terminal where we found our grandchildren.  Yay! 

Both kids had been up late the night before and had an early, early departure to get to Sea-Tac, and since neither had slept on the plane, they were weary.  Although it was only 3:00 PM Pacific Time, they hadn't eaten since early breakfast, and so were ready to eat.  Grandma Judy went home.  I fed the kids "walking tacos" that I had prepared ahead of time, and after a short visit, the children disappeared into their bedrooms.  Not unexpected.  Robin did come out, at some point, after having been asleep for awhile, then went back to bed.

I just love having them here!

Household Angels

Three years ago, I thought I was going to be selling my house and moving to Washington to live with my family.  My son-in-law's parents, who hadn't been in the US very long (from Russia), were also in turmoil about where to live, etc.  In a series of events that put them between homes in IL and FL, they came to stay with me for about six weeks...and I put them to work.
(That was part of the deal.)

While Luda and Sergei were here, they repaired stuff, stripped wallpaper, painted walls, and took everything off the walls to fill nail holes, etc.  I was grateful for their help.  For the most part, we enjoyed each other's company.  And then they left.  They had a trailer home paid for in Vero Beach, FL, and they were ready to go and start their new life in Florida.  I never had them put stuff back up on the walls, etc., because I just knew I would be selling my house soon.

As it happens with "the best laid plans of mice and men", moving to Washington didn't happen for me.  Although I had been told dozens of times by my daughter and son-in-law that I would always be welcome to live with them, I wasn't getting the vibes to affirm that.  And so, over time, I came to accept that I wouldn't be going there.  They had their own issues.  Didn't need to add to them with mine.  Still, it was a jolt.

So what now?  My house is paid off, finally.  I've put on a new roof and done some minor landscaping, with the help of a friend.  But the house still didn't feel right to me because my treasures weren't on the walls, etc. 

My grandchildren are coming for a visit tomorrow.  I wanted to make the house presentable--although I truly believe they won't care--so I tapped into my cleaning gal and her plumber son to help get the house back to what used to be normal.  The son made mincemeat out of hanging blinds, curtains, and heavy mirrors.  And suddenly, my house-on-a-slab became my home again!  What a long, strange trip it's been!  The improvements close the house up some, and it's already small, but I don't care.  It's what I want, and sometimes I spend 24 hours a day here.  My household angel, Debbie, and her son have, just today, made everything right again. 

Angels come in different forms.  I'm happy with the ones I have!     

The Nitty Gritty

We live our lives thinking that all is okay.  Sometimes, it's not, but we can't imagine the results.
That is happening to me now. 

Once upon a time, back in the 1990s, I had need of $150 to get me out of a legal deal.  My daughter, who was a very young adult, was trying desperately to help me but couldn't, on her own.  With no family close by to rely on, I finally advised her to call a friend to ask if he could/would help.  He dropped everything and came running.  I will forever be grateful for that.

A week or so later, he came by so I could repay him, which I did.  Maybe a year later or so, he called to tell me that I owed him sexual favors because he had helped me out.  As far as I was concerned, that ended the friendship.  I hadn't seen or heard from him since, when I turned him down, which was okay by me!

Fast forward twenty years or so.  I got a friend request from him on Facebook after he saw me on Nextdoor.com.  I sat on the request for quite a bit, wondering if it was wise to accept his request.  I mean, it had been a long time.  Surely things would be different now, right?  I accepted his request. 

Bad decision! 
On July 28th, when I was barely home from my trip to Washington, he wrote me a personal message saying that he'd like to "have lunch with an old friend".  I told him on that very same date that the next week would be better for me.  He said he'd be in touch...and that's the last I heard.  Until yesterday. 

Yesterday, he got all huffy about how I hadn't responded to his messages of July 28th until just now.  Surely that meant that I didn't care about his attention.  I tried several times to prove to him that I HAD responded, but couldn't get the system to cooperate.  (Still can't.)  I told him that, because of his accusations without proof, I was okay with being out of touch with him.  His response was that I was "cold".  Yeah...okay. 

Lesson learned.  Leopards don't change their spots.  I have no clue what this man wanted by friending me on Facebook, but his emotional response to things outside of my control tell me that I'm just going to let this situation meet its eventual demise. 

   

AT&T Follies

I bought my little house-on-a-slab in 1992.    In those days, the Internet was basically unheard of.  AT&T was my phone service provider, and Comcast was my cable TV provider.  All was well.  I had no complaints.

Then along came the Internet and the advent of a computer in the home.  (My daughter was maybe a sophomore in high school, so that puts it around 1995, not long after my father's death.)  We purchased our first computer and accessories with my share of my father's life insurance payout, prompting Megan to say, "In a sense, Grandpa is still taking care of us."  Yes, he was.

Home computering was fairly primitive back then.  We were constantly needing to upgrade memory, RAM, modem speed, etc., none of which I really understood, by the way.  Internet Service Providers were private companies, not a part of the large communications companies.  I found one in Indianapolis for $15/month.  And since the connectivity back then was via dial-up modem, being online meant tying up the phone line.  Any incoming phone call would instantly knock us offline.  Very frustrating.

Know what else would knock us offline?  Static on the phone line.  I had noticed static during normal phone calls that seemed to correspond with the computer's inability to maintain a connection.  I called AT&T for a repair dude to come out. 

They sent out a young fellow the next day who walked around, inside and out, carrying a laptop computer, trying to diagnose the problem.  When he was done, he seemed befuddled.  He told me, in so many words, that he wasn't totally sure where the problem was and advised that I should just live with it to see if it went away.  Then he left.  Are you kidding me??

Obviously, the problem didn't go away.  The modem still couldn't maintain connectivity, and I was growing more and more frustrated.  I called AT&T again the very next day.  I got an actual human.  Our conversation went like this:

ME:  Could you please send out another technician who actually knows what he is doing?  I'm still having a lot of trouble with static on the line.

ATT:  The technician said he couldn't hear any static.

ME:  Ma'am, I am calling you on the line in question.  Can YOU hear the static?

ATT:  Yes, I can.  I'll send someone out as soon as possible.

Different technician came out the next day and fixed the problem.  But golly-oshkins, why do I have to tell them how to do their jobs???

The next time there was phone trouble was along about 1999 or so.  I had no phone service.  At all.  Upon investigation, I discovered that the actual phone wire from my house was on the ground in my neighbor's yard.  I drove down to the local grocery store to a pay phone--yes, there were pay phones in those days!--to report my outage.  I was given a vague answer about when a repair dude would come.  Sometime next week, to be announced.  I sensed a lack of urgency on their part, so I asked a male radio friend of mine to go with me to the pay phone and call them, thinking that maybe hearing a man's voice instead of a female's might make a difference.  It didn't, really--I guess to their credit?

Meanwhile, I'd been without a phone for a couple of days.  (This was long before the cell phone era.)  Not only did I not have online connectivity, I didn't have emergency communication potential.  So...I tried once more.  Here is how that conversation went:

ME:  I have already reported that I have no phone service.  I need you to put my repair on the front burner.  The line is down.

ATT:  How do you know that the line is down?

ME:  I'm looking at it out my kitchen window.  The line is physically on the ground in my neighbor's yard.

ATT:  You didn't mention that before.

ME:  I didn't know that I had to.  Saying that I have no phone service should have been enough. 

Needless to say, the problem was then fixed promptly...but once again, I felt that I was having to tell them how to do their jobs.

I finally invested in a second phone line dedicated for computer use so we could use the phone AND still be online.  (I had long since given up the Indiana ISP and contracted Internet service with Comcast.)  It worked for a long time, until the big communications companies came up with the notion of taking modems off phone lines.  I mean, they are still tied in to phone lines but not to the exclusion of actually using a phone for communications.  Imagine being connected to the Internet all the time!  Wow!  (Cell phone technology was budding by this time.)  I bit on the technology with Comcast and gave up the second phone line.  No more dial-up.  Yay!

One day, there was a knock on the door.  A young lady was there from AT&T offering something called U-VERSE.  This is a "bundling" program that offers Internet connectivity, phone, and cable TV all in one package.  What she offered at the time was less than what I was paying for phone with AT&,  plus TV and Internet with Comcast, so I went for it.  What I didn't realize at the time, and have somewhat regretted, is that when the TV or internet go out, so does the phone.  Typical of me, I didn't do anything about it, even though I am a heart patient, blah, blah...

Over the years, my AT&T monthly payment is the highest one I pay.  It costs me over $250 a month to watch TV, talk on the phone, and have my internet connectivity.  I know I should complain more than I do, but I'm not savvy enough about the alternatives to threaten to cancel.  I consider myself a bit of a Baby Boomer victim, a technology refugee...and I hate it.

Fast forward to now.  I came home from a month in Washington on July 24th.  All was well.  On August 1st, and again on August 2nd, I began to experience "signal lost" on the TV, which also meant loss of internet connectivity and phone service for the seconds to minutes that it stayed out.  This was happening dozens of times per day, so I called AT&T for a repair on Friday.  They did some online testing and determined that I needed a technician.  (This is all via automated phone, by the way.  No human.)  They scheduled a repair dude to come Saturday, between noon and 4:00.  He showed up sometime after 1:30, did some checking, and determined that the problem was in their wiring "at the pole".  He would send for a pole technician who should arrive, he thought, in an hour.  The pole technician arrived at 4:10.  He mucked around some outside but was mostly not visible to me.  He took me "out of service" for awhile, but put me back "in service" before he left for the day.  Before he departed, I picked up the phone to make sure I had a dial tone.  I did.  And the TV was on.  All was well, right?  Wrong!  Just after he left, along about 5:45 PM,  I still didn't have internet service.   

I had to call AT&T again for more service.  This time, I got connected with a person named "Conrad" with an Indian accent.  He had me do some test things, one of which knocked me off the phone with him.  We reconnected awhile later.  Still no internet...so...they would be sending out a technician (again)--ugh--on Monday.  That means another whole day without connectivity.  What bothers me the most about this whole thing is that the last dude left without a word that I still wouldn't have internet, yet supposedly reported in his notes to the company that there were still issues.  In short, I believed that he knew I didn't have Internet and simply wanted to go home for the day rather than deal with customer wrath.  I considered it dishonest, and I was NOT happy.  

Early Sunday morning, I received a phone call from a human from AT&T asking questions.  When I told him what I knew, he kept making sounds as if my situation was strange, weird, unusual, etc.  Not very hopeful for me!!  It was confirmed that I would have a technician here between 8:00 AM and noon on Monday.  Bring it on, boys!  This time, you won't get away until I have ALL of my contracted services and am comped for the time lost!  That'll show 'em!

Well, dear boys and girls, this time, AT&T should have been telling me how to do my job!  

Late Sunday afternoon, after being all day without Internet connection via computer and spending the day feeling totally out of touch with the world, I checked my WiFi connection.  Still not online.  I clicked on a couple of things in the process of exploring, and suddenly, the WiFi connected.  Things were still running weirdly, so I rebooted the computer and discovered, to my chagrin, that I DID have a connection.  My computer had simply failed to automatically reconnect to the router after the service technician had taken me out of service, and  I just never thought to do it manually.  (And, of course, rebooting usually fixes everything--something I have known for years.)  I called AT&T to cancel the repair appointment for Monday (today).

I am grateful that the whole problem is resolved and delighted that I found the issue myself before I tied up a technician's time just to tell me that I needed to connect to my own WiFi.  I am also a bit embarrassed at my own stupidity.  Shhh...  I won't tell anyone if you don't.  Have mercy on me!      

Last Day in Washington, July 22

Denis had to go to work this day.  The rest of us held down the fort.  As one can imagine, the house was a hodge-podge of things that were all out of place due to the unpacking process.  The mode of the day was survival.

Robin's Significant Other, Jesse, came over to be Robin most of the day.  I unpacked almost nothing, since I would be flying to Indiana the very next day.  When suppertime came, Meg threw some grub together.  No one went hungry.  Most of the rest of the day was spent just puttering around and resting.  It was a necessary thing to do.  Mom used to call the post-vacation slump a "let-down".  I think we all knew it would take days, maybe even a week or more, to regenerate our attitudes and energy.  We didn't resist.  I still had two flights the next day to do, and Meg and Den still had to get me to the airport.  No rest for the weary!

I've already written about my flights back to Indiana.
It has taken me a week-and-a-half to write about all of the excursions and experiences I had while in Washington this summer.
The only thing left is to recap some feelings:

1.  My family is awesome!  Megan is a planner and supreme tour guide.  Denis is a trouper.  They are fun to be around.  Robin is private, adventurous, and fun.  Ryan really is a good guy who, in spite of his protests, enjoys being with family.  There is a special place in my heart for all of them.  I am so blessed!

2.  I saw and did more things during my visit than many people get to do in a lifetime.  The family spent thousands of dollars to make this a Bucket List trip for me.  I'll not soon forget it.  I am so blessed!

3.  I was surrounded by more history and more beauty than any one person deserves.  I saw places I've only seen in pictures before--and I am a semi-world traveler.  There is so much to see and do right here in the Good Old USA, who needs to travel overseas?  We are so blessed!

4.  I have come to understand what a culturally and geologically diverse country we live in.  I mean, I already knew it, but sometimes we just have to see it firsthand to fully comprehend.  We are so blessed!

I'm still basking in the afterglow almost two weeks after returning home...

Washington Trip--July 21 (Portland to Bothell, WA) Day Ten

We were packed up and officially out of the Hippie House by 10:00 AM.  Once again, Denis loaded the kayaks onto the car by himself, with minimal help from Ryan.  (God bless him!)  It was a beautiful day.  Our ultimate destination for the day was to be back home in Bothell, WA, but first we had to see Mt. Rainier.  (Actually, Meg had wanted to take me to a place where the ruts of the old Oregon Trail are still visible, but it was going to take us quite a bit out of our way, and we were tired.  We deep-sixed that.)

Mt. Rainier--the tallest mountain (volcano) of the Cascade Range-- is, like, 60 miles south of Seattle.  It was a long and wind-y trip just to get that far from Portland to the south.  Rainier is so very visible from many, many places in Washington, IF the weather cooperates.  Any kind of cloudiness, haze in the distance, rain/mist will make the volcano disappear.  Whether or not the "mountain is out" is totally dependent on atmospheric conditions, even up close.  ('Tis the same with other mountains, as well, but one would think that something as big as Rainier would show up more.)  Finally, we arrived at a place called Crystal Mountain.  I think Crystal Mountain is actually a ski resort area that has cashed in on the fantastic views it has of Mount Rainier.  At the base, there are small shops, a ticket booth for a lift up the mountain, etc.  At the top, there is a restaurant, deck chairs for viewing, and (of course) the vista of all vistas:  Mount Rainier.

Before I even left Indiana, Megan had asked me if I could handle riding on a gondola up the side of a mountain for a view of Rainier.  I assured her that I could, although we both know that heights make me weak-kneed.  And then, right here at Crystal Mountain, I took a look at how high up the gondolas go and got dizzy.  Whoa!  Still, we had made this trip just for me, so I swallowed my nervousness and up we went.

The ride up on the gondola is actually easier than the ride down, in my perception.  The mountainside is steep and, as far as I could tell, the only thing between us and certain death was the cable that held the gondola up.  There are no safety nets.  Grandson Ryan, got lots of pleasure from looking down, commenting on the length of the fall, making remarks about snapping cables, thinking it would be a good idea to rock the gondola like a ferris wheel car, etc., all to torment his grandmother.  At one point, he looked down and said, "I wonder what caused all of the broken branches on those trees."  (There were no trees under the gondolas.)  I quipped back, "They are probably from the bodies of falling children, pushed out of gondolas by their grandmothers."  I think he got the point.

"Summit" means "highest point of a mountain", right?  When we got to the top of Crystal Mountain, we were, indeed, on its summit.  Which means we were on a ridge.  True of most ridges, there wasn't a lot of space to mill around.  The walkway from the gondola station to the Summit Restaurant area had rails.  Beyond that, there were no rails--nothing between us and the bottom of the valley below.  There was a row of lounge chairs facing Rainier, perched on the edge of the canyon with only a few inches of ground before the steep drop.  People were in those chairs, soaking up the sunshine and the view of Mt. Rainier, and being entertained by a slew of ground squirrels that were too tame for their own good.  All around were signs not to feed them, but that didn't stop the sitting people from doing so.  Most (but not all) of the offenders were older kids whose parents did nothing to stop them.  This enraged Robin.  As we stood behind the chairs, Robin turned to her brother and said--quite loudly, for all to hear--"RYAN, DIDN'T YOU SEE THE SIGNS NOT TO FEED THE ANIMALS???"  I don't think it deterred anyone, but it did show me that Robin can be bold!

As soon as we got to the summit, Denis had put our name in for a restaurant table.  There was a wait, which is why we were outside enjoying the environs.  When it was our turn, Denis noticed that the menu had changed since the last time he had been there a couple of years before.  The Rainier Burger had been replaced by a Bison Burger, which put a crimp in a couple of appetites.  Ryan was allowed to order from the children's menu, plus other things.  The rest of us did the best we could.  (They had their version of a Reuben sandwich, with sauerkraut and dressing, but the meat was "pork belly"--not corned beef.  I had that.  It was good.)  Megan pointed out that the menu was deliberately limited because, as far as we could tell, the only way to get food products up the mountain was the same way we came--by gondola.  Yup.  Never thought of that.

As God would have it that day, the mountain was out.  And what a gorgeous mountain Rainier is!  Lots of snow on it.  And oh, the surrounding countryside was fantastic, too!  From the summit of Crystal Mountain, we could see five volcanoes in the Cascade Range:  Glacier Peak, Mt. Adams, Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens (all in Washington), and Mt. Hood (in Oregon).  It was a five-volcano kinda day!

My mother used to use the expression, "All good things must come to an end".  This vacation-within-a-vacation (our nine-day trek through Washington and Oregon) was a good thing.  And yes, it had to come to an end.  We backtracked down Crystal Mountain by gondola, found the car, and hit the road for Bothell and home.  We pulled into the driveway by 7:00 PM, unloaded the car, greeted the cat, and headed for private corners of the house.  We were tired, and all of the togetherness of the past nine days makes aloneness and privacy almost a gift. 

There was one party in the family who didn't particularly crave aloneness that evening:  Toffee the Cat.  She was annoyingly happy to see us, so much so that when she was kicked out of Megan and Denis's bedroom, I was her second choice of humans to bug.  She had been on her own for nine days, except for the fellow that came in to make sure she had food and water, and she was going to make sure that she got attention, come catnip or high clover!  No amount of petting was enough.  She wouldn't curl up next to me.  She insisted that I pet her, even when I was sitting at my computer.  She was in motion the whole time.  I would pet her as she walked away.  Then she would turn around and come back for more.  And if there was a lull in the petting action, she would bite me in the leg.  (The last time, she drew blood, the skunk!)   Welcome home???   

   

       

Washington Trip--July 20 (Portland), Day Nine

Today was supposed to be a repeat of yesterday, with the children going with Denis, and Meg and I touring the Columbia River Gorge; however, Robin woke up with a headache and nausea.  She really, really didn't feel well--was pale, etc.  There was a thought to leave her behind to suffer alone, but I couldn't handle that.  She decided--and it was her choice--to come along with the women and let the guys do their thing. 

Thus, Ryan and Denis departed to do their motorized scooter thing, while Meg, Robin, and me headed for the Portland Saturday Market.  The "Saturday Market" is also on Sundays...this a whole weekend thing.  Booths with crafts, fair foods, live music, etc.  Meg dropped Robin and I off, with my rollator, to wait in the shade while she found a place to park.  Robin actually laid on the ground for a bit.  Poor baby was still feeling punk.  A bit later, she decided to venture forth.  I gave her some cash and told her to stay in touch.  Soon after, Meg showed up.  She left to find Robin, and all was well.  They took off together, and I decided to take off, too.  I didn't find a single thing that I couldn't live without, so I scarfed up a piece of pizza.

Awhile later, Meg texted me asking if I needed something to eat.  No...but I could sure use something to drink.  She and Robin arrived at our arranged meeting place, with a drink for me and an elephant ear to share three ways.  We left soon after.  Robin's color had returned.  It was clear that she was feeling better. 

After departing the market, we headed straight for the Columbia River Gorge.  I have often heard of it.  Not sure what I expected.  Maybe some sort of steep canyons, etc.  What I saw, instead, was absolutely gorgeous river vistas, waterfalls, boats on the water, a Vista House at an overlook.  Awesome stuff!  Oh yeah...heh heh...Multnomah Falls.  So many things for the eye to see but the brain not understand!!!!

We stopped at a Starbucks on the way home for hydration and nourishment.  Arrived back at the Hippie House by 7:00.  Denis went out to buy Mexican for our supper, which the family ate out in the yard.  They stayed outside and visited for a long time.  And then the day was done.  Last night in the Hippie House.

Washington Trip--July 19 (Portland), Day Eight

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto."
Seattle has its quirks.  I can hereby announce that Portland is quirkier!  Its reputation is all about--how shall I put this?--uh...quirkiness?  (If you have ever watched a TV show called Portlandia, you will know what I'm talking about.)  What I saw of Portland--which admittedly wasn't much--I can only describe as eclectic, eccentric, hyper-ecologically-minded.  Basically, I call it Hippie Culture.  The house that was to be our home for the next couple of days was dubbed The Hippie House.

It is difficult to describe the house.  It was almost 100 years old, complete with high ceilings and glass doorknobs.  (Shades of my childhood home in Oak Park, IL.)  There was ONE bathroom, two bedrooms but with a hide-a-bed in the living room and a couch-type bed in another bedroom's closet.  The kitchen had been upgraded at one time, but the stove had a burner that didn't work, and the garbage disposer had issues.  Also, there wasn't enough room in the freezer for us to put our ice packs to refreeze for the eventual trip home.  And, once again, there was nowhere to put our "stuff".  Still, it was home.

The entire front yard was fronted by what I would call an adobe wall on the outside, with the cob oven on the inside of the wall.  There were tables and chairs in the yard, like for parties, and a niche for quiet sitting/reflection.  And all around, inside and outside, were "things"--Tibetan prayer flags over the front door canopy, a children's chalice from the UU church experience, a statue of a Buddha on the steps to the front door, native woven throws on the walls inside with Mayan, Incan, and/or Aztec influence, untended garden boxes outside that were growing strawberries at the moment.

The entrance room was the dining room with a big, round table and four chairs.  (We brought one in from the yard to seat five.)  I think Meg really wanted to use the cob oven outside but was discouraged to do so by the owner and our own fatigue to be that patient!  In short, we did the best we could to make the best of the situation.  It was an experience!

That first morning, as we prepared to take off for the day's experiences, I was told that Denis and the children were going off by themselves, by bus--totally planned--while Meg and I would leave with the only car for most of the day.  It was only then that it hit me--duh--that this whole leg of the trip was planned especially for me.  They all had already done it.  I was stunned.

Meg and I departed before the family did.  We were headed over the Columbia River, back into Washington State, for Mt. St. Helens.  I should probably explain here that I was a geology nut during most of my youth--a "pebble pup" that knew a little about a lot but not a lot about anything.  Mt. St. Helens erupted in April of 1980.  Megan was barely a year old, but I remember it almost as much as when Kennedy was assassinated and the Twin Towers came down.  I had hungrily watched the newscasts about the event, followed the human interest stories, all about a volcanic eruption in the US that changed the land forever, until the next time.  I really, really wanted to see that place!

The drive to Mt. St. Helens is beautiful.  Totally out of cell phone coverage.  When we got close, we stopped at a place known as a visitor's center.  Beautiful vistas.

And then we arrived at Johnston Ridge, about six miles from the volcano.
At the time of the eruption in 1980, the Johnston Ridge Observatory didn't exist.  It came to be sometime after the eruption as the place where volcanologist David Johnston stood vigil.  When the mountain blew, he radioed "Vancouver!  Vancouver!  This is it!"  He was never seen or heard from again.  His body was never found, lost to the explosion that killed 60-some others.

We watched the videos.  In the on-site theater, there was a curtain over which a screen came down to display the video.  When it was over, the screen went up and so did the curtain.  Behind the curtain was a wall of windows facing Mt. St. Helens.  Directly in front of us was a glorious view of the volcano, a mere six miles away.  I wasn't expecting that.  It looked so close.  I think I gasped!

I have said this before and will say it again:  pictures and words do not do justice to what we were seeing:
Pictures of the mountain, both before and after the eruption--a mountain that blew out sideways.
The tree blow-down, consequences that are still visible on the mountain sides for many miles. 
The depth of the valleys and the majesty of the surrounding mountains. 
The loss of life. 
The recovery of the area after 39 years of nature's healing. 

Being near Mt. St. Helens was a lot like being in Monument Valley in Utah for me...like being in church.  Here, we were in the presence of something far greater than ourselves.  There is awe that comes from the sometimes-sudden realization of how totally miniscule and helpless we mortals are.  Beautiful.  Amazing. 

As the Johnston Ridge center was closing, I bought Meg a book that she had been wanting, and we headed back to Oregon.  Denis requested a pick-up, so after some figuring, we found them.  During our day at Mt. St. Helens, they had gone rock climbing, had donuts from the VooDoo donut shop, played endless ping-pong, and drove all over town on motorized scooters.

Everyone was tired and hungry.  Back at the Hippie House, we opened three big cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew, added Bisquick dumplings, and waited impatiently for the dumplings to be cooked.  By the time we actually ate, it was quite late.  No one stayed up long this evening! 

 

Washington Trip--July 18 (Portland), Day Seven

Checkout time at the Beach House was noon.  Due to the length of the planned drive that day (to Portland, Oregon), Megan and Denis had scheduled for us to depart earlier than that, but it didn't happen.  The kayaks had to be put back on the car; the dishes had to be done up and put away; and we had to put things back where we had found them.  Interesting how quickly five people can clutter up a place!  We were in the car, ready to depart, at straight-up noon.  And just like clockwork, the property owner called before we could even get the car started to find out if we had checked out so she could come and set up for the next patrons.

Bye-bye beautiful Beach House. 

Our first stop was in Forks, shortly after we started out, for coffee.  It wasn't a Starbucks but did offer Starbucks-like coffee concoctions and milk shakes.

Our next stop was at the Kalaloch Campground area, on the Pacific Ocean, to see the Kalaloch "Tree of Life" on the bank above the shoreline.  (How my daughter finds these things to check out, I'll never know.  She amazes me!)  We weren't to be there long.  The trek to the shore was over a short-but-uneven trail that wasn't conducive to my rollator, so I stayed back at the car while the rest of the family went to see it.  My admonition was, "Take pictures!"  Ryan came back to the car first, telling me all about how the tree roots are totally exposed with a cave carved out underneath it--leaving one to wonder what is holding it up and how it is still alive.
You can see it here:   https://theculturetrip.com/north-america/usa/washington/articles/the-story-behind-the-kalaloch-tree-of-life/

Back on the road.  Long drive through the Quinault Rain Forest area, through Aberdeen (where Curt Kobain lived).  Went through a construction area that had traffic stopped, then led traffic through the construction by a "pilot vehicle".  (A first for me.)

Eventually, we crossed the Columbia River, the border between Washington and Oregon.  Also a first for me.  I've never been to Oregon before!  And, by the way, the Columbia River is huge and an enormous contributor to the development and economy of the whole area, probably as much as the Mississippi River is back in the Midwest.  We were in Lewis and Clark territory!

We stopped at an overlook at Cape Disappointment, near Cannon Beach (which is both a town and a beach) which sports a history that includes lots of shipwrecks.  Further along, we saw the place from other viewpoints, one of which was high on a hill overlooking a lighthouse on a cliff above the water,  and Haystack Rock just off the shoreline.  The side of the cliff was white, which apparently is "guano" from zillions of cormorants (sea birds) that roost there.  Guess tourists can actually smell the bird poop.  I, however, cannot.  (No sense of smell.) 

It was a bit of a thrill for me to be overlooking Haystack Rock.  Virtually every picture I ever see of Oregon's "features" includes that rock.  It is so recognizable--probably one of the most-photographed places in all of Oregon!
You can see it here:        https://www.cannonbeach.org/things-to-do/beaches-and-parks/haystack-rock/

We drove back down the mountain to the town of Cannon Beach, proper.  Stopped at a place for a dinner of fish and chips.  And wasn't it convenient that an ice cream shop just happened to be right next door??  By this time, the daylight was waning and the temps cooling down, as often happens in the PNW.  We still had one-and-a-half hours to get to Portland and our day's destination.  Thus we hit the road again.

Meg had booked a place with a "cobb oven" outside.  We had no clue what to expect.  The house is in the middle of town--not out in the boonies like our last two places were--and parking was on the street.  Not good with kayaks on top of the car!  It was dark when we got there.  Had to unpack the buggy, even though we weren't parked very close to the house.  Plus, there was a wall all around the property with only an adobe-like archway up some steps as an entrance.  Challenging!  Still, it was our home for the next three days.  We established bedrooms, scouted out the kitchen, put things away, and went to bed. 

Hello, Hippie House! 

Washington Trip--July 17 (Beaver), Day Six

Rain!
When I got up at 5:00 AM, it was raining.
Robin and Ryan slept late because it was raining.
Megan and Denis motivated slowly because it was raining.
I went down for a nap at 1:30 PM, it was still raining.
Denis and Megan played Rummy at the table, then they also went for a nap.
Yep.  Still raining.  The three-humped mountains across the lake couldn't be seen.  Just a gray day.

This wasn't the usual Washington misty drizzle.  This was real rain, as in enough to make puddles on the rocks outside.  Enough to keep us in the house most of the day.

And what did we do in the house most of the day?
I watched TV and messed around on my computer.  And napped.
The rest of the family did their things.
Megan and Denis played cards then took a nap.
Robin read her book.
Ryan played games on his computer.  I'm pretty sure they also napped some.
It was just a sleepy kind of day.
That was a shame, really--to be surrounded by an expensive, resort-type home with all kinds of opportunities for outdoor activities, yet be thwarted by the weather.  But, to be honest, this was our first really slow day for weeks, and I think it was needed.

Toward evening, there was a break in the weather.  The rain stopped.  The puddles drained.
Denis made marinated kabobs on the propane grill for supper.  More card games were played at the table, and then we all went to bed for our last night in the lovely Beach House.

Washington Trip, July 16, (Beaver), Day Five

The AM was cloudy and cool.  I was up at 5:00 AM.  (Yep.  Even on vacation.)  Then the sun came out and the day's weather was decent. 

Megan and Denis played around with the paddle board and kayaks for awhile before the kids got up.  Also before the kids got up, I served pancakes and bacon on the deck from stuff we had brought from home.  (There was a delightfully big non-stick electric griddle that worked wonderfully!)  When they finally DID get up (after noon), I fixed another round of pancakes and bacon.

Meg was after the children to enjoy the water while they could because the forecast for the next day was for rain the entire day.  Later in the afternoon, Meg, Den, and Ry went out in the kayaks/paddle board.  (Robin declared that it was too cold for her, so she did the hammock thing with her book while Ryan tried his best to heckle her from the water.)  At one point, I looked out to notice that Denis was towing Paddle Board Ryan to the beach.  My heart sank because I thought perhaps Ryan had sunk his paddle, but noooo...  He was using his paddle to hook onto Denis's kayak for a tow, "just for fun".  (Fun for Ryan...but what about Denis who was paddling for two?)

Denis cooked burgers on the propane grill out by the shelter house, then built a fire in the fire pit for s'mores.  By now, it was dark, and it started to rain.  We gathered our things and went into the house to play BS (a card game) before everyone crashed for the night.  It was a busy day. 

Washington Trip, July 15, (Beaver), Day Four

This morning was cloudy and cool but warmed up fast.  Denis put the kayaks and paddle board on top of the car while the rest of us packed up.  We were leaving Margi's Guest House for our next 3-day home-away-from-home.  Beaver, WA--our day's destination--is near Forks, which was the setting for one of the Twilight books that were all the rage with young adults awhile back--made into a movie.  Why Forks?  Apparently, the author wanted to set her vampire book in a place with a lot of yearly rainfall, and Forks was what she came up with.

We had a sausage gravy over toast breakfast.  Since the Guest House wasn't booked directly after us, we weren't overly-concerned about checking out right at noon.  (Actual departure was 12:30 PM.)  While Denis and Megan packed the car, I did up the dishes and put them away.  I think we left Margi's place none the worse for wear!

Our first stop of the day was actually right near Margi's Guest House.  It was a lavender farm called Jardin du Soleil (French for "Sun Garden".)  Ryan and I stayed with the car while Meg, Den, and Robin visited the grounds--gift house, lavender everywhere--nice stuff.  At one point, Denis came back to the car to get cleaning wipes, saying "I don't want to talk about it."  Okay...  It seems that, somehow, what he didn't want to talk had something to do with bird poop.  I didn't ask!  We were there for about an hour.

Next stop was Port Angeles for gas and Starbucks.

Next stop was at a recreation area at Crescent Lake for snacks.  (We brought our own.  This was to be lunch.)

At 4:45 PM, we arrived at our day's destination:  the Lake Pleasant Beach House, our home for the next three days.

The Beach House sure doesn't look like much from the outside, but wow on the inside!  When we arrived, we were met by a refrigerator repair dude who had been called to fix a problem with the refrigerator.  I got scared that we wouldn't have refrigeration, but no.  The only inconvenience we would have was that the water dispensed from the fridge wouldn't be cold.  There would be plenty of ice, however, so I thought I could live with that!  Almost as soon as we pulled up, the owner did, also.  She told us that her last tenants had broken the screen on the sliding glass door to the deck.  How big of a problem can that be?  Turns out, quite big.

Let's do inventory on the Beach House:
1.  Laminate floors except for carpeted bedrooms.  Beach decor throughout.
2.  FOUR bedrooms--one with a double bed (or larger, I'm not sure), and three with two twin beds each.  Bedrooms have luggage benches to put stuff on, etc.
3.  THREE full bathrooms!!!
4.  Fully equipped kitchen, with dishwasher, microwave, STOVE, garbage disposer.  (The only thing I couldn't find was a toaster.)
5.  Living room with two recliners, leather couch, leather love seat, a futon-type bench, huge satellite TV, complete with remote.  Dining area off the living room area with a big wooden table and eight chairs, plus ceiling fan over the table.  On the wall between the dining area and the living area was a sliding glass door leading to a huge deck.  (This is the door that lacked the screen due to the previous tenants.)
6.  Big utility room equipped with washer and dryer, AND an indoor sauna.  (One would think that a sauna is unnecessary, but Denis--with his Russian culture--used it at least twice.  Apparently Russians believe in sweating things out!)
7.  The house is on the Lake Pleasant beach.  To the side of the house, there is a fire pit, with benches around it, a rock path along the shoreline, lit with little torches, a hammock slung in the shade of a couple of trees.
8.  Also outside of the house, there was an outbuilding that was an enclosed shelter-house, with a fireplace and a propane gas grill, with places to sit and eat.
9.  The ONLY thing this house didn't have was air conditioning.  Many places in this part of Washington don't.  Open the windows, turn on a fan or two.  It rarely gets hot enough to need artificial cooling.  This was where we missed the absent sliding door screen.  Had we been able to leave that door open, the house would have been comfortable even without fans, but nobody likes bugs!  I know the landlady will have that fixed ASAP, but she couldn't get it done while we were there...but guess what?  We survived in grand style!
I became acutely aware that this place had to have cost Meg and Denis a ton of money.  They were here once before.  I am honored that they included me in yet another visit to this venue.  What a treat!!

This place wasn't to be just our home base for other excursions.  It WAS the other excursions!  The instant we unpacked, Ryan--who normally doesn't like to go out and do stuff--came alive.  Frisbee on the beach.  Kayaking.  Paddle-boarding.  A water gun shootout.  Robin also got in on the kayaking/paddle-boarding thing, but she got cold, so curled up on the hammock with her book.

Late in the day, Denis started a fire in the fire pit so we could roast bratwurst.  We also had baked beans, chips...and later, s'mores.  Isn't it great to have the feel of camping but have the ability to go back to civilization inside the house for creature comforts?  Loved that!

When the daylight waned, we went inside.  The rest of the family crashed.  Ryan and I stayed up a bit to watch TV...something we didn't really have at Margi's Guest House.  He popped popcorn.  I yawned a lot.  Wonderful day! 

Washington Trip, July 14 (Sequim)--Day Three

The morning proved sunny and warmish.  Early morning owls and howls, as usual.

After a breakfast of cereal and leftovers, we departed 10:00 AM-ish for the Olympic Game Farm.  This place used to be a Disney set for movies involving animals.  (Long history which I won't address here.  Google it, if you are interested.)  As it exists now, there is a concession stand and a museum, and a drive through animal territory where patrons can feed animals whole wheat bread purchased at the entrance point, from their cars.  We did it all.

The animals that were "loose" and begging, included yaks, llamas, bison, elk, deer, peacocks, sea gulls, etc.  Behind bars (thus unfeedable) were wolves--probably what I was hearing from the home place--bears, etc.  (The bears weren't totally unfeedable--just contained so they couldn't approach cars.  Not so the bison.  There were signs around warning drivers not to allow bison close to the car, since they can do serious bodily harm...to the car!  It was fun--and sometimes scary--to have big critters so close to the vehicle--with their heads actually IN the vehicle, begging for bread.  It was here that we saw a bear in an enclosure catch a piece of bread we had tossed, then dip it in water before he ate it.  I thought only raccoons did that!  One of the bears here has achieved Internet fame as "the bear that waves".
(You can see it here, among other sites:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwSuzQhC4eU .)

Since the Olympic Game Farm was only a little over two miles from Margi's Guest House, as the crow flies, I deduced that the wolf-howling that I was hearing at the house was most likely coming from the game farm.  I don't think wolves are in the wild on the Olympic Peninsula.  Coyotes, however, are.  Not sure I know the difference in howls!

Yes, we patronized the game farm.  Yes, the animals were well-cared-for but not necessarily in a way that is natural to them.  I do NOT want to hear from PETA-people, nor will I argue the ethics of keeping these movie-star-animals in this manner.  We enjoyed our experience!

After the game farm, we drove to Port Angeles to an Asian buffet where we have been before.  This was "lunch".  Robin, who is a big sushi fan, introduced me to the California Roll.  As she explained it, the California Roll is for people (like me) who are reluctant to eat raw fish.  She assured me that there was no raw fish in it.  It was good.  Not sure it is worth all of the hype surrounding sushi in the US these days, but I can now say that I have had it at least once.

With our hunger satiated, we then drove to Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic mountains.  (This is part of the National Park System, I think.)  Hurricane Ridge is--duh--a mountain ridge overlooking mountains and valleys in beautiful vistas.  I've been here once before.  This day's visit was a bit less satisfying than the last due to some cloud cover, but still awesome.  There are usually deer to be seen and mountain rodents.  There are also hiking trails (which we didn't take) and a visitor's center, complete with gift shop and some food offerings.  Only a short rock wall on the patio of the Visitor's Center separates visitors from a steep drop-off down into one of the valleys.  These things always make me nervous!  Thank goodness, my grandkids are old enough and smart enough (I think?) not to tempt fate by standing on the top of that wall.

The drive back to the Guest House was, as always, lovely and full of wondrous things to see.  We were "home" by 6:00 PM, had our one-pot meal by 7:00.  (Walking tacos.  We had prepared the meat before we left on vacation, and froze it.  We warmed it up on the one-burner hot plate, and put the refried beans in the microwave.  Voila!  Dinner!)

After dinner, the family left to go to the Dungeness Spit to hike it a bit.  I stayed at the Guest House and set up my computer for the first time in days.  When they all returned, they came bearing drinks and the most delicious ice cream sandwiches.  Just what the doctor ordered!

Perhaps I should say here that the Dungeness Spit was one attraction that helped convince Megan to book our accommodations nearby.  She was fascinated by it.  (I didn't even know it existed!)  Although I wasn't with them for this visit to the Spit, I could live it vicariously (which I often have to do on these excursions).  Meg told me that there was a gate at the entrance, manned by the Park Service.  I don't think there was a fee to enter.  Basically, this is a 6.8-mile narrow sand bar, with sand on each edge and driftwood in the middle for the whole length of it.  The family was carrying a frisbee, which the person at the gate asked them to leave behind.  (They did.)  There is no road on the spit.  It is only accessible on foot, and (of course) the tides and shifting sands will change the place, day to day.  In spite of the ruggedness of the environment that created this natural feature, it is somewhat ecologically fragile.  It isn't a beach for recreation and picnics for people to ruin with trash, etc.  It is, however, the second longest natural spit in the world.  Definitely something to see!

We played Scattergories before bedtime.  Our last night in Sequim.