Boom Boom

We spent a lot of time this spring removing the old overgrown and dilapidated fence on the back of our property. I chopped and hacked the Blackberry, Salmon Berry, Morning Glory and Honeysuckle back several feet past the property line to get room to put up a new fence.

Every now and then, buried deep in the brambles, I'd come across the remains of an old tennis ball, the fuzzy green skin almost all gone, the white rubber insides showing through like bleached bone. I picked them up and saved them, putting them in a row on a shelf in the woodshed, not knowing why.

I remembered how Boom Boom used to retrieve those tennis balls, catching them in the air on the first bounce, and strutting his way back to lay it at your feet for another go. My shoulder got so sore from throwing tennis balls I eventually had to get a tennis racquet to keep the game going. Every now and then one of the grandkids or I would hit one a little too hard and knock it over the fence into the bushes. Boomer would run to the fence and go on point to show us where the ball was. Some times we could reach through the thorns, grab it and resume the game but once in a while there was no way to get to it, so we'd go get a new ball. Boom Boom wouldn't have anything to do with it. He'd stay on point, whining, as if to say, “It's right there, I can smell it!” Sometimes he wouldn't accept a new ball until the next day.

Yesterday, while I was getting a wheel barrow out of the wood shed I looked at the row of ruined tennis balls and realized why I'd saved them. I dug a hole next to Boom Booms grave and returned his lost treasures.

Another Beachcomber Days

I can't help it! I love old cars more than I love a parade!
Another Beachcomber Days has come and gone. Kelly, J.C. and I only went to the car show, and went home before the "celebration" started.
Carol worked all morning baking and cooking for the firemen, drove an ambulance in the parade, got a transport to the hospital right after it ended, and was busy all afternoon with a surf rescue call. She came home pooped.
Boy, do I feel like a wimp!

Weather

I guess when you get older, griping about the weather becomes a mainstay in our lives. “That stupid weatherman on channel 8 said it was supposed to be sunny today!” or “ The Yahoo weather forecast on the Internet called for 'partly sunny' in the morning followed by 'partly cloudy' in the afternoon!”

It's easier to just look out the window, and right now my forecast is: “Rain!”

This sure has been a weird winter and spring though. In a colder than usual May we had some late frosts and then all of a sudden a few days later it got up into the 90's for two days. It was like being transported from Alaska to Florida and then back again.

Yesterday we finished up some planting and yard work just in time for this rain to move in. We've also been working on a new fence on the forested side of the yard to keep the dogs in and the Bears, Raccoons and Coyotes out. I got the fence line cleared of Blackberry, Salmonberry, and Honeysuckle vines; pulled out all of the old rotten posts and wire, and set new fence posts. We're waiting for the new wire fencing to come so we can be done with it. At our age, a few hours of hard work a day is enough, so it takes a while to finish anything.

Why we love our dogs.

Well, the hair explosion has eased up a little. There for a while we thought we were going to be buried alive. Brushing, sweeping and vacuuming, we collected enough hair to fill the Grand Canyon and it just kept on coming.
Yesterday we had to go to Corvallis, a trip of about 60 miles. We decided to take Taz along , shedding or not. We spread a blanket in the back to catch some of the hair and started out. About halfway there he barfed. On the way home he did it again. It looks like he gets about 30 mpp. (miles per puke) He even hit the blanket once!

Hair Explosion

This morning on my trek from computer to coffee maker, I noticed wisps of white stuff all over the carpet. I thought Taz had torn the stuffing out of one of his toys again, so I picked most of it up and threw it in the waste basket.

On the next coffee run I found even more. Could Taz be losing his winter coat? Sure enough, when Carol brushed him it looked like a pack of Saint Barnards had been shaved in the living room, but instead of looking any smaller, he was fluffed up even more. I'm afraid to think of how much more hair and fur is getting ready to come out!

We've had a cold winter this year and he evidently was well prepared for it. Now the forecast is for warm weather and I guess we'd better be ready for a slow motion hair explosion.

My Lake

I took advantage of a break in the crappy weather, cleaned the dust and cobwebs off of my kayak, and drug it down the road to Eckman Lake. It felt sooo good to slide it into the water and paddle out on the glassy water. The Ospreys are back from their South American vacation, and were working on their power pole nest, the Canadian Honkers were flying overhead and a Loon was laughing from the other end of the lake. Frogs were peeping and croaking away and I realized how much I missed coming here. I need to get back in the habit of going to my lake at least twice a week.
I fished for a while but mainly just paddled around and relaxed.

Global Warming, my a..!

Boy, here it is a few days away from April and we've been getting hammered with winter like storms. It can be bright sunshine and blue skies one minute and then things start to get dark, clouds move in and it'll either start raining, snowing or hailing. It's been getting down into the 30's at night and a cold wind blows in the daytime. A week ago we thought Spring was here, and so did the plants and trees which all are sprouting new buds. I guess that's what we get for trying to rush Mother Nature.

Happy Day Before Easter

JC, Taz and I went for a nice beach walk yesterday. As usual, Ona beach had changed dramatically. The sand had returned in most places, covering the bed rock and ancient tree roots that the winter storms had exposed on our last visit.

Taz was happy to get out, he was high-stepping all the way through the park, over the Beaver Creek bridge and onto the beach. There were some agate hunters and a few other dog walkers, but not many people for a Saturday morning.

We came across the old redwood stump that has been slowly working its way north with the winter high tides and the south winds. I first came across it 20 years ago about 8 miles south on Tillicum beach where we used to live. It already had countless slabs sawed off of it for coffee tables, and who knows what. Rick and I borrowed a chain saw and cut a gun stock sized slab from it for a gun that I never built. I finally traded it to someone for something, but for the life of me I can't remember who it was or what I traded for. As it works its way up the beach it gets smaller, slab by slab, but it still is impressive. It was high centered on a lava rock outcropping and looked for all the world like a wrecked sailing ship.

There was a weathered sandstone rock face that looked like it had Egyptian hieroglyphics on it, (at least to my imagination,) and we picked up some small agates here and there. There was a good surf and the waves were banging the rocks pretty hard, but we had a hard time getting a picture of it. The four mile walk pooped all three of us out and Taz slept on my coat all the way back to Waldport.

Time keeps on flying, flying...

We celebrated another Saint Patrick's Day pigging out on Carol's delicious corned beef and cabbage, along with some wine and beer. Afterwards, when J.C. And Kelly were leaving, J.C. Said, “That was great Carol, much better than we had last year at the Salty Dawg!” Carol and I both agreed.

Later, while I was thinking about it, I realized that last year we had spent St. Patties Day the same way as this year; at our house. It was two years ago that we had gone to the Dawg for dinner. It made me realize how fast time flies when you're getting old. An entire year had tried to slip from our memories! It seems as though it's only been a few months ago since J.C. Moved here from Las Vegas, towing his little Honda behind a huge U-haul truck, but it's actually been over four years now.

I can remember being a kid in High School, sitting in my last class of the day, watching the wall clock that hung next to the picture of George Washington above the teacher's desk. I swear, a week goes by faster now than it took that damn clock to tick off the last five minutes of the school day.

It seems that I no longer have time to do much, even though I'm not working, don't have any kids to tend to, or any responsibilities to speak of. It's just that time goes by so much faster now! In fact it whizzes by in such a blur that I have a hell of a time remembering what day of the week it is. The other day while I was writing out a check, I had to ask the clerk what the date was, and she replied, “The 16^th.”
“Umm,” I stuttered, “What month?” ...I had the year aced, though.

Carol came up with the analogy of a spool of thread; When you first start pulling the thread, the spool turns slowly. The more you pull off, the faster the spool turns and when you get close to the end it's really cranking. Maybe that's the way time works.

I'm published!

Several months ago I submitted a story to Paddling.net, a kayaking web site that I visit almost every day to read the articles and find out what's new in the sport. I'd forgotten about it until this morning when they emailed me that they'd published my article! They even had their artist draw a picture of me...kind of a younger version of me... with more hair... and without my stash and goatee... Otherwise, a good likeness.

Here's the description of the article and a link to the story:

MisAdventures - Self-Launch!

Never under estimate the advantage of having a boating buddy. This month's MisAdventures story describes the ordeal of trying to do things alone, and the benefit of a caring paddling partner - even if they are three times larger than you. Enjoy a extra-sized laugh in this funny reader submitted article.