Dream

Yesterday I walked up to JC's house to watch the Sunday afternoon football games.

As I got comfortable on the couch and took a sip of wine, JC said: “I've got to tell you about the dream I had last night. I don't know what it means, but it sure was weird! I was right in the middle of disarming a nuclear weapon, there was security all around the area, and all of a sudden you came strolling up and casually asked, 'You wanna go see a movie?'”

At least I didn't sneak up behind him and pop a paper bag like the guy in the picture.

Night Visitor

When Squeak, our Papillon and little troublemaker, was a puppy, I let her sleep on top of my bed. In the winter months the unheated back bedroom gets pretty chilly, so she soon learned how to squirm under the covers, between the flannel sheets and snuggle up against my back.
Then when summer arrived and the house warmed up at night, she began sleeping in the living room with Taz, her Lhasa Apso-Pomeranian cohort, or on top of Carol's bed. She usually would join Taz when he comes in to wake me up at four o'clock every morning. It looked like she was finally growing up.
Now that cold nights have returned and Carol has put the flannel sheets back on , around midnight Squeak comes in and jumps up on the bed. I reach out to pet her and pat a spot where she obediently curls up and lies down, but when I wake up again she's under the covers, sometimes with her head on the pillow right beside me.
I've been accused of spoiling our dogs and I guess that's true, but somehow I just haven't had the heart to deny them their comfort...Until this morning, when a tickling on my head made me look in my bedroom mirror. There in the reflection of my thinning hair was a big, fat flea scrambling for cover. He was having a hard time finding a place to hide, and I caught him between my thumb and forefinger as he raced around. I squashed as hard as I could for a good half a minute but when I opened my fingers to hopefully see his smashed carcass, he made a mighty leap and disappeared down into the carpet.
Tonight my bedroom is off limits to all puppy dogs.
And I mean it.
I'm serious, now.

The Bad and the Good

Lately it's been hard to find anything lighthearted to write about, with Brad in the hospital for almost three weeks and Don in and out of the emergency room for similar stomach problems.

On the bright side JC seems to be feeling surprisingly well, and we have David coming home from Afghanistan in time for the holidays. If all goes as planned he should be back in the states sometime next month for debriefing and then home for a well deserved vacation with his wife and son.

Bucket List Road Trip

The "3,000 Mile, Bucket List Road trip" has been added to, and moved to a website:
http://bobert54.webs.com/

Little Things

Yesterday as Carol and I were walking into Walmart, I noticed that she had a couple of clothing tags sticking up at the back of her neck. I said,” Hold it a minute Hon,” and proceeded to try and tuck them in. “Darn it,” she said, “ I can never see if those things are sticking out or not!”

A woman walking by, leaned toward us and said, “The secret is having someone who loves you enough to do it for you!” I never got a good look at her, but I was struck by what she said. I seem to remember an old 1950's song with the line, “Little things mean a lot!”

They do!

Magic Moment

The other day our son Don and his wonderful, rowdy family dropped in for a visit. As usual in that branch of the family everyone was happily jabbering at the same time, and to my dismay the Parkinson tremors started in both of my hands. Even though I'd taken my dopamine tablets my tremors got worse and I clasped my hands together trying to control them.

Shelby, Don and Diana's seven year old daughter was playing with our dog Squeak when she saw my shaking hands. She walked over to me and gently laid her hand on top of mine.

The tremors stopped.

She looked up at me and smiled, then went back to playing with Squeak.

It seems that a grand daughter's touch can easily outdo modern medicine.

Puppy Love At First Sight

The newspaper ad read, Puppies for sale, Pomeranian – Lhasa Apso mix.

We drove the 16 miles to Newport and found the address at the top of a steep set of stairs, with very little room for us to park our pickup.

A nice lady answered the door and let us in, we introduced ourselves and told her that we'd like to see the puppies in the ad. After a few more pleasantries she asked her husband to “let them out.”

He crossed the room, opened a door and stood back.

All of a sudden a dozen or so (it was impossible to count them) yipping, yapping little balls of fur came running, slipping, jumping, peeing and sliding across the living room's hardwood floor. They were so excited and full of fun that Carol and I got down on our knees with them and got our faces and hands licked for the effort. It was a pandemonium of cuteness.

One puppy caught my attention; he was a mixture of colors, with two tufts of white hair that stood up between his ears like devil horns and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I turned to Carol and asked her which one she liked the best. “That one!” she said, pointing at the devil dog.

“Me too!” I said.

“Well, that was fast!” the lady exclaimed, “I call him 'Diablo', and he's my favorite!”

“I can see why!” I said.

I wrote out a check, the lady gave us our new puppy's shot records and papers and said goodbye to her favorite, with tears running down her face.

On the way home we talked about a name for our new family member.

“'Diablo' is fitting, but maybe we can find a better name for him.” Carol said, as the puppy cuddled in her lap.

The next few days we tried and rejected a host of different names, as the puppy entertained us and terrorized our Lhasa Apso, Chewy. Chewy was old and almost blind, and he showed an amazing amount of patience as the new addition yipped and nipped at him, trying to get the old guy to play.

We thought “Hoppy”,and “Khan” cute names, but not quite right, “Beelzebub” was too long, “Devil” was too evil, and then Carol remembered the nickname we'd given our grandson Austin when he was going through the “terrible twos.” “Why don't we call him “Taz,” Carol said, “He's a real Tasmanian devil for sure, and Austin has outgrown the name, anyway.

Now Taz has grown up and has to put up with his own upstart puppy. I guess turnabout is fair play.

Granny Two Dogs

It's nice to have both a lap and a neck warmer on a chilly morning.

The Fighting Clelands

Boxing News

Roberto “The Tremor” Cleland is now fighting in a new weight class. He has gone from 152 pounds down to 136 and he hopes to defeat Jersey Joe Parkinson, the challenger, in a fight promoted by Cheap Box Wine productions.

Roberto's trainer, Giuseppe Franzia says that his fighter is working hard to perfect his famous “Tremor Jab” which along with his “Roberto Shuffle” confuses his opponent long enough for Roberto to land his slow motion “Sleeper” punch.

In related boxing news, Roberto's brother, JC “The Radioactive Kid” Cleland has also made a dramatic weight change and has dropped from the heavyweight division to fight as a featherweight. He hopes to hold titles in both weight classes and he feels confident that his opponent, Smokin' Joe Cancer can be beaten. In JC's corner is Sal Franzia, another one of the famous Franzia family of fight trainers. “The Radioactive Kid” is known for his powerful “Atomic Belch” which has been the downfall of many opponents.

Low Tide

A few days ago JC and I decided to get off of our butts and go for a beach walk. There was a minus tide that day and all kinds of tide pool life was exposed on the lava rocks which are usually submerged.
JC took a lot of pictures of the Green and Pink Anemones, Mussels, Goose neck barnacles, sponges, Sea Stars and myriads of other creatures. There was an unusually warm wind blowing and we walked a couple of miles enjoying the scenery and the super fresh air that you only can get on the beach.
We both were sore the next morning but we promised each other we will do it more often.

Surprise!

Our grandson David came home from Afghanistan yesterday for a couple of weeks vacation. He has to go back again but he should be home for the holidays, hopefully for good.
He went to the school and surprised his son Dominic in the school gym. There wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Slow Movin

Yesterday coming home from a trip to Newport, we passed a Sheriff's patrol car on the side of the road. In the rear view mirror I saw him pull out onto the highway, one car behind us. After a few miles the other car turned off and the patrol car stayed on our tail, which always makes me nervous.

I kept checking the speedometer and I wondered if we had a burned out brake light or something. Another four or five miles went by, and after we passed through the little town of Seal Rock, he turned on his flashers and pulled me over.

I had my drivers license ready but he approached the passenger side. Carol rolled down her window and he looked in and said to me, “Sir, do you know what the speed limit on Highway 101 is?”

I always think of what I should have said hours later, so all I said was, “55.”

What I should have said was, “35, 40, 45, 50 and 55, depending on where you are.”

“Driving too slow is just as dangerous as driving too fast,” he said, looking at my license. “How long have you been driving on this highway?”

All I said was “20 years or so.” (Actually it's 31 years.)

What I should have said was, “A lot longer than you have, sonny!”

“Well you've been impeding traffic. I clocked you at 42 miles per hour back there!”

All I said was, “Oh.”

What I should have said was, “Since you were the only car behind me, I guess I was impeding you. What, are you late for the donut eating contest at the Waldport bakery?”

It's probably just as well that I think of the smart ass things that I should have said quite a bit later, because after chewing me out some more for driving too slow, and checking my record with Interpol or something, he returned my license and let us go on our merry way.

48 Years!

Wow! 48 years of ups and downs, good times and bad and we still love each other.

A Randy Quaid Kind of Day

Yesterday was sunny and warm when I started on my daily walk to JC's house.

A vehicle slowed down and pulled up beside me, a man leaned out the window of his pickup and asked in a familiar voice, “How far up ya goin?”

Now, I should explain that I'm pretty good at recognizing actors in old movies or identifying the narrator's voice in a documentary, and I swear, the guy looking at me with a smile on his face was Randy Quaid! His face, his voice, and his lopsided grin all said, “I'm Randy Quaid!”

“Uh, I'm walking for the exercise,” I stammered, “but thanks anyway!”

He waved and went on his way upriver.

I know that Randy Quaid is supposed to be in Canada seeking asylum from “star whackers” but he either has an exact double or he's secretly visiting Oregon.

I found JC already sitting on his deck enjoying the sun with two iced glasses at the ready, waiting for some wine to be poured.

“This is probably the last wine I'll be able to drink for a while,” he said, “my new prescription says,'no alcohol' and I have to start taking it tomorrow.”

A little while later he looked up at the sky, threw his arms wide and yelled, “I'm not dead yet!”

I thought that maybe he'd given up his atheism and was talking to God, but when I looked up I saw the three vultures circling above us.

It was one of those days.

Blast from the Past

Another old friend stopped by for a surprise visit on Friday.

I hadn't seen Cecil Fredi for close to fifty years. He and I went to gunsmith school together at the Colorado School of Trades, and after we graduated we became partners in a gun shop in Las Vegas. Our shop was located on Charleston Blvd. in Cardinal Sporting Goods, and we specialized in gun repair and custom gun stocks.

We called it quits and went our separate ways after a couple of years but we had a good time while it lasted.

The picture was taken while we were still in gun school, fishing somewhere in Colorado in the late 1950's.

Future Baseball Stars?

Our grand daughter Shelby and great-grand son Dominick showed off their baseball skills the other day at Kendall Field.

Sunshiny Day

Finally!

After a couple of months of rain, rain, rain, we had a sunshiny, nice day!

We've lived here for over 30 years and I don't think we have ever had so many crappy days without a break.

We had grilled hot dogs and salad and sat there sipping wine and looking at wispy clouds that looked like hands or turtles or rabbits. The dogs enjoyed the sunshine just as much as we did.

It was a gorgeous day but unfortunately it was one day in a row. Now we're back to more rain.

Genetic Memories

Our Papillon puppy Squeak either has genetic memories going back to her wolf ancestors or maybe delusions of grandeur. She takes a mouthful of kibbles from her bowl in the kitchen, brings them into the living room and puts them on the belly of one of her toys, usually a ragged, white stuffed sheep. Looking like a wolf feeding on a fresh kill, she defends it fiercely until the last kibble is gone.

Luddites

The Luddites were a group who rebelled against the use of the machines that replaced people during the Industrial Revolution. Their leader was a man by the name of Ned Ludd. The name has since become a term for anyone who is against new technology.

My wife Carol is a Luddite!

When we got our first computer in the late 1990's I was completely enthralled and I was soon emailing, learning how to do spread sheets, editing photos, and using the word processor. Carol reluctantly and sparingly used it for email, genealogy, and solitaire games. That was twenty years ago and she hasn't updated her opinion or use of computers a bit since then.

When the old original Packard Bell became outdated, I ordered a new custom built computer from a company in Tacoma and then after a few years, when it got long in the tooth, I built a state of the art, super fast, new one from scratch. (With help from my brother!) I transferred all of our old video tapes to DVD and edited them using the new computer and it became an important part of my daily life.

Carol isn't comfortable with more than one remote control in the living room. Even though there are separate remotes for the surround sound, the Bluray DVD player, the CD player and the VCR, we keep them put away out of sight.

In contrast, my brother JC, has at least six remotes (at last count) sitting on his coffee table. His big screen TV plays 3D movies and his lab and bedroom are a technophobes dream. (Or a Luddites nightmare!)

Lately I've begun to agree with Carol. I know that when we all get together for a barbecue or just a visit, sitting outside on our patio or JC's deck and talking is a whole lot more fun than sitting in silence in the living room watching a movie on TV.

I've already made it clear how I feel about cell phones and now people are packing lap tops, tablets, iPads and iPods around with them also.

New cars come with GPS systems and built in computers, new refrigerators have computers to tell you if your food is out dated and that's just the beginning.

I'm afraid that if there was an electromagnetic pulse, either from a giant sun spot or a nuclear attack, which would fry the power grid, kill the computers in automobiles and shut down all of our electric and electronic devices, we'd all be walking helplessly around in circles not having a clue what to do next. Aborigines in the Australian out back would hardly be affected and would go on with their daily lives, blissfully unaware that the “civilized” world was coming to an end.

It's all coming so fast that I feel like technology just passed me by and left me spinning in its wake.

I'm afraid that I'm becoming a Luddite too!

Good Excuse

Three weeks ago a doctor recommended that I don't drink any alcohol for two months because of stomach inflammation that showed up on an EGD. I'm not so sure that was a good idea.

I've been reading articles about the benefits of red wine for some time, and I thought that now with Japan's nuclear reactor scare I should post some highlights:

Reports on the benefits of red wine are almost two centuries old," "The breadth of benefits is remarkable – cancer prevention, protection of the heart and brain from damage, reducing age-related diseases such as inflammation, reversing diabetes and obesity, and many more,"

Red wine contains a complex mixture of bioactive compounds, including flavonols, monomeric and polymeric flavan-3-ols, highly colored anthocyanins, as well as phenolic acids and the stilbene polyphenol, resveratrol. Brown said that some of these compounds, particularly resveratrol, appear to have health benefits.

Resveratrol exhibits therapeutic potential for cancer chemoprevention as well as cardioprotection.Resveratrol may aid in the prevention of age-related disorders, such as neurodegenerative diseases, inflammation, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease.

And here's the kicker:

According to the latest research, red wine – along with its many other claimed benefits – may also protect you from radiation exposure. A team at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine have discovered that resveratrol, the natural anti-oxidant found in red wine, can protect cells from the damage caused by radiation.

Impending nuclear attack? Then scientists may soon recommend that it is best you start drinking heavily and not just because you may be facing oblivion.

Didn't I see on CNN that a tiny amount of radiation is showing up on the west coast? I for one, plan on being well protected no matter what the darn doctor says!!

Listening

Since Parkinson's disease has reduced my voice to little more than a raspy whisper, I sometimes get frustrated at not being able to speak loud enough to be heard.

However, I've found that because of this I'm becoming a much better listener. This is not a bad thing.

Now, during a conversation, I try to take time to think about what I want to say, and often after some consideration, I just keep quiet and listen. Like Thumper was told in the movie Bambi, "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all!"

A few of our family and friends are getting hard of hearing, which compounds the problem, but as long as they can see my face, a little lip reading on their part helps.

I've also found that It's pretty hard to put your foot in your mouth if you keep your mouth shut, although it is possible, (especially if you're married.)

Doctors and Nurses

Lately it seems as though we spend more time at doctor's offices and hospitals than we do at home. Between Brad's ongoing stomach problems, Carol's arrhythmia , JC's cancer, my weight loss, and now Don's latest scary close call with a perforated intestine, the doctors and nurses are getting all too familiar with the name Cleland.

JC and I have already had our hospital records switched when my records were accidentally put in his folder and his in mine. Luckily we caught it before Dr. Frank Stein operated on the wrong hump.

More than once when I've gone in for a test or “procedure” a doctor or nurse will say, “Hmm, Cleland, are you related to Brad? Or Don? Or John? Or Carol?

Hopefully one of these days we can all get back to normal and become strangers to the doctors and nurses again.

Skinny Bob part 2

Well, I finally remembered not to eat before a fasting blood test and got that accomplished. A few days later the clinic called and said the results were negative.

Then I went to the hospital in Newport for chest x rays, and again the results were negative.

Next was the CT scan, and except for springing a leak and dripping blood all over the floor after they unhooked the IV, I passed it with flying colors.

A Colonoscopy was next and when I went to the pre-op appointment to see Dr. Hoque, he suggested having an EGD, (Esophagogastroduodenoscopy) also. Which is basically the same as a Colonoscopy but they go down from the top end to look at the inside of the stomach. (Hopefully not with the same equipment!)

Carol and I arrived at the hospital a little after 6:am, since I was the first “procedure” of the day. I weighed in at 131 pounds. The nurses and anesthetist all were great as they prepped me,and at 8:am they rolled me into the operating room.

The next thing I knew I was in the recovery room waking up.

In a little while a nurse helped me into a wheelchair and wheeled me back out to the outpatient room where I had started. They paged Carol and after she arrived another nurse sat down with us to explain what they had found and what the doctor had prescribed.

They had found and removed a polyp from my colon, (No big deal.)

The doctor advised a high fiber diet. Yum, sticks and twigs!

The EGD however, revealed a Hiatal hernia and Gastritis (inflammation of the stomach lining) and they had the gross pictures to prove it!

The doctor prescribed Carafate liquid, 2 ounces 4 times a day for 2 months. The nurse pointed to the sheaf of instructions for me to take home. The Carafate can only be taken 1 hour before and 2 hours after you eat. Huh?

The doctor also advised no coffee or alcohol for the next 2 months. WHAT?

My head was spinning from the leftover anesthetic and the instructions, but I did manage to ask, “Could any of these things be the reason for my weight loss?”

“No, the doctor doesn't think so.” Great!

So I still don't know why I'm losing weight, my morning coffee and my evening wine are gone for two months and I have to drink this gunk that tastes like watered down Pepto Bismol 4 times a day.

Seeing

Sometimes while I'm taking my daily walk up to JC's house I find myself sleepwalking, day dreaming along, not paying attention to anything but the gravel under my feet. I'm sure I've plodded right by a lot of wildlife and scenery that I would have enjoyed seeing if I had only opened my eyes and paid attention.

I find however, if I take my camera along I start looking around and seeing things, like the Blue Heron trying to catch a minnow and keep an eye on me at the same time. Like the Otters watching me from the lake and the Wood Ducks paddling and quacking along in the bay on the north side of the road.

Yesterday, which was sunny, but one of the coldest days of this winter, I bundled up in a down jacket, pulled on some wool gloves, and as an afterthought slipped my camera into a pocket.

Even though the temperature was in the thirties there was a fisherman trying his luck from the bank next to the highway.

Just east of the lake is a meadow where Elk come to browse quite often, but almost always at night. I see their fresh tracks several times a week as I walk by, but I've only seen the Elk three or four times. Yesterday they were calmly grazing in the cold sunshine.

I wonder how many times I've walked right past them.

What day is it?

Despite having an atomic clock next to my computer that tells me the date, day of the week, phase of the moon and even the time, and despite the day, date and time being displayed in the lower right hand corner on my computer monitor, I very seldom know what day it is.

I get a clue from my pill minder, a plastic compartmentalized gizmo that helps me keep track of the colorful array of pills and capsules that I'm supposed to take every day. It's clearly marked M T W T F S S, but usually I ignore that information and just take the pills in the compartment next to the empty one.

I also get a clue when I walk out to the mailbox, (usually in the rain,) and there isn't even any junk mail. That's likely Sunday, but not always.

Doctor's appointments are carefully marked on our desk calendar but when I ask Carol about them she usually says, “I don't know, what day is it today?” This causes me to go in the den to check the computer and find out.

Paying bills by check also makes me ask, “What's the date today?”

Most of the time though, I really don't care!

Dog Training

When Taz was a little puppy, every night he'd come into my bedroom, jump up on the bed, and curl up on top of the covers, behind the crook of my bent legs to sleep. When he got older, he decided that sleeping on a dog bed under the bedside table was more grown up and dignified.

Squeak started out the same way, but being short haired, she liked to be covered up. It didn't take long until she figured out that when I laid on my side she could crawl down under the covers and snuggle up against my back. I let her get away with it because it was cute and after all, she was still a puppy.

We were always worried that I might hurt her if I rolled over on one of her little skinny legs, so recently Carol bought her a nice dog bed and put it on top of the bed in her bedroom.

I always go to bed first, and the two dogs and Carol stay up and watch TV. When she gets sleepy she tells the dogs, “OK, time to go to bed!”

Taz goes straight into my bedroom, gets on his bed under the table, spins around two or three times and settles down for a good nights sleep.

Squeak goes into Carol's bedroom, jumps up on the bed, gets on the new dog bed and lets Carol cover her up.

Every morning around 4 am, when Taz wakes me up with his “It's time to get up!” growl, I realize that I have a little doggy curled up against my back. She very seldom wakes me up when she slides under the covers during the night, and when I turn the bedside lamp on in the morning, she lays there behind me with her head on the pillow, and gives a little squeak of displeasure at the sudden light.

Slowly but surely, if they keep at it and don't get discouraged, the dogs will have us completely trained.

Kelly

Well, JC's son Kelly is on his way to Alaska!

He'll be working at a sea food processing plant called Unisea. It's located at Dutch Harbor, Unilaska, one of the Aleutian Islands. The Bering Sea is to the north and the Pacific is to the south. I hope he packed his long underwear!

The Unisea website is at http://www.unisea.com

Captains Log

The Captains Log

Looking back on the countless dumb things I've done in my 74 years on this earth, one thing that I'll never regret is writing “The Captain's Log” and taking the trip it describes.

We pulled our four boys, Brad, Don, Fred and Rick out of grade school early in May of 1972, loaded them and our Saint Bernard, Grande into our Chrysler station wagon and went on a trip around the western United States.

Hooked to the rear of the Chrysler was a brand new 20' Great Divide travel trailer. I had never pulled a trailer before, but I learned from experience and by the time the trip was over I could even back it up like a pro. The kids became experts at setting it up in the various campgrounds we stayed in. They looked like an Indy pit crew unhooking the hitch and spring bars, leveling the trailer, and hooking up the water, electric and sewer. It usually only took them a few minutes.

I got the idea of keeping a log of our trip on the first night in Mancos Colorado at the Navajo Trail Trailer Park. ($3.00 a night!) I scribbled an account of our day on the road and the kids came up with the idea of calling it “The Captains Log” from Captain Kirk's opening statement in “Star Trek.” I faithfully kept it up for the rest of the trip.

We had no real agenda, if we saw something interesting like the “Prehistoric Gardens” or the “Mystery Spot” we pulled over and the six of us (seven, counting Grande) swarmed into the place like an invading army. We stopped at the “Montana Vortex” and “The Trap” (a roadside zoo) among other roadside attractions on our way to more famous places Like Disney Land, the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Las Vegas, Catalina Island, San Francisco, Yellowstone, Redwoods and Sequoia National Parks.

We visited family in Las Vegas, and friends on Catalina Island, in Vallejo, California and Kalispell, Montana.

The trailer was loaded down with souvenirs and keepsakes when we finally pulled up in front of our house in Colorado on the 5^th of July. Among other assorted treasure there was Don's horse statue collection, Rick's pine cone collection, Brad's antique car models, Fred's seashells and my rock and mineral collection. Also we had a sprouting Redwood burl, a live tadpole, two quilted maple gun stock blanks from Coquille, Oregon and Carol was starting her gray hair collection.

Many times Carol and I have pulled the old Captains Log out and refreshed our memories of that trip. The pages are getting yellowed and and worn but it still remains a testament to one of the best ideas we ever had.

Skinny Bob

I knew when I went to see my general practitioner, Dr. Vogleman that I'd be in for a giant barrage of tests, and I was right.

My main reason for seeing him was the weight loss I've experienced since last summer. In late July I weighed in at my normal 150 pounds, and yesterday at the clinic I weighed 136.

My neurologist said that some people with Parkinson's do lose quite a bit of weight but that I should see my G.P. to make sure there wasn't another reason for the weight loss.

Dr. Vogleman scheduled me for a chest x ray, a cat scan, a fasting blood draw, and a colonoscopy. I also have to go in for a couple of shots for the Bursitis in my hips.

The clinic called yesterday evening and said I should go to the hospital for the blood draw and the chest x ray and not to forget to fast for 12 hours beforehand.

This morning I got up and ate my usual bacon, sausage, eggs, toast and milk before it sunk in that fast is not the same as breakfast.

Oh well! I'll try again tomorrow.

Sargent David Cleland

David in Afghanistan on the way to his permanent base.

JC's Bald Eagle Picture

Click on pic to enlarge

While we were at the beach the other day a huge Bald Eagle watched us from a scraggly pine high up on the cliff above . I took some of my usual shaky pictures, but JC got a real masterpiece using Brandy's head as a make piece tripod to steady his telephoto lens.

JC vs. the Big C - Round 3

Now that JC's daughter Brandy is here to be his caregiver, we can all breathe a sigh of relief. She's keeping track of his confusing prescriptions and driving him to his various doctor appointments here on the coast and in Corvallis.

She's hoping to get a part time job, possibly as a night desk clerk at one of the local hotels, or something similar that will let her have free time in the days to tend to her dad.

Yesterday we enjoyed a sunny day picking up agates and fossils at Ona Beach.

Trailer

We've been working on the new (to us) trailer almost every day for a couple of weeks now. I fixed the propane bottle hold down, the busted lid on the toilet, the stove light and fan, the bathroom light and fan, the front door, and I pulled the hot water heater and refrigerator out to try and repair them. Carol got a couple of cabinets and a new mattress along with a table lamp and some rugs.

The refrigerator and water heater were beyond help so we went to Sears and got a new fridge. We called an RV repair place in Newport and he came out and installed a new hot water heater.

We modified and installed the cabinets Carol found and put the new refrigerator in.

I framed and paneled a couch and we put some old cushions on it until we can find something better.

JC's daughter Brandy is going to be here in a few days to take care of her dad and we told her that she can stay in the trailer as long as she wants. We want the trailer to be livable and comfortable when she gets here. I think we'll just barely get it done in time!

The weather has been so cold that we haven't filled the water tank yet. I don't know for sure if everything in the water system works, and we've got our fingers crossed.

The weather is supposed to warm up tomorrow so we can troubleshoot that for any problems.