Adventure 132: Seattle, WA/Post C

My favorite picture of Douglas and Nora at Priest Lake.

We spent the late morning visiting our favorite cousins, Douglas and Nora Hoisington. Nora has been battling Cancer for sixty-nine months now. In fact, she's so energetic and vivacious, most of those months a stranger wouldn't  have known she was sick. Even yesterday, despite a yellow tint from jaundice and fatigue from the battle, she radiated her usual warmth.   She shared her Valentine chocolates with us, her cupcakes, her humor, and her home. The day was busy while we were there. Both of her daughters were with her, as was Douglas who is among other things, the gatekeeper. There needs to be one as a steady stream of friends and loved ones pass through. The priest came. Friends stopped by to drop off food. We were there, and so on. Judy and I have been blessed to have Douglas and Nora in our lives for quite some time now. They've opened their hearts and their homes to us. Not only that, they are largely responsible for our love of cribbage (Douglas taught Judy to cheat). I'm sure I'm making this part up, because surely we've won a game or two, but I mostly remember Douglas and Nora beating us unmercifully (They are fierce competitors) whether we were playing a game at Priest Lake or in a restaurant or at their dining room table. All I know is we've played quite a few games over the years, and Judy and I are on the minus side of the ledger. My cousin, Joan, Douglas' sister was also in town, so we all piled on Nora's bed, ate sweets, and bantered back and forth just like we always do. Unconditional love spread like the comforter on the bed. Speaking of spreading the love, in the afternoon Douglas graciously offered his extra car (We were going to rent one) for me to use over the weekend, and then he went even farther. He used his car to drove Judy out to Bellevue to meet Elizabeth so Judy and she could drive to Spokane (In Libby's car) for a baby shower. Douglas is an excellent driver who knows his city. I'm an adequate driver who knows a tiny bit about the city (And nothing about Bellevue). Seattle traffic is atrocious because they are in the midst of a complete upgrade of the downtown corridor. Not only that, but driving in Seattle traffic makes me nervous (I'm whining now). The bottom line is that if I can get the willing services of an excellent driver, I'll take it every time. Later, after we returned, we enjoyed pizza (Brought over by one of Nora's co-workers) for dinner, and visited with Boy Wonder's girlfriend's parents. Boy Wonder is Craig, Nora's nephew. He's really more like a son they never had. He has also benefitted from the boundless love of Douglas and Nora. Anyway, it must be serious because he invited the parents of his girlfriend over to meet the family. Around eight, Nora called it a night, which put an end to quite a full day. I used Douglas's car to find my way over to Elizabeth's apartment. I slept, and now it's another day in the Emerald City. Around noon, Douglas will drive Joan to the airport, and he, me, and his daughter Ashley will travel to Tacoma for my sister's memorial. And so it goes. We control what we can control; we accept what we can't; we give thanks for every day. I think it's a good choice because after all, life is good, especially today.

Joan brought these cupcakes back from her "walk". They were yummy, especially the the ones with the pink frosting.

 Nora and her daughter, Alex, two very beautiful and photogenic gals.

 My cousin, Joan, who now lives the retired life as a ski bum in Park City, Utah, is looking the part of the rich and famous slope bunny. That's my Bunny next to her.

 We enjoyed a couple rounds from this heart full of chocolate.

 I have my "Bunny". Douglas has his "Darling". (I'm not sure what they call us, but it's mostly favorable).

 We got to visit Alex's cute apartment. She has a knack for decorating. She managed to make this six hundred square foot, one room space look elegant and feel cozy.

 Proud "Papa".

 Little Miss homemaker.

 I love this picture of Douglas and Alex when she was a little over two. Nora must have taken the photo, and Ashley was mostly likely hanging from her hip.

 If you peek out the window of Alex's apartment, this is the view.

 Nora with her daughter, Ashley.

 Most of the gang gathered on the bed watching the Olympics.

 Douglas dropped his phone into the lake let summer. He recovered it in one dive. It's over twenty feet deep right below him. Amazingly, the phone worked, although he used the occasion to upgrade. He's know a skilled user of a smart phone.

 A few years back, I moved the wood pile into the shed, which improved the look of the property and also keeps the wood dry.

 Nora, acting as "Boat Babe" and tour guide. She and Douglas are true "lakers". For them, the only thing better than being with their family is being with their family at the lake. 
   

Adventure 131: Seattle, Washington/Northwest Interlude/Post B

It's hard to get closer than this.

The wily cager leads 1-zip in the Seattle Open. We played a game as we enjoyed breakfast at a nice little cafe called The Dish. Then we walked to the grocery store both to get our steps in and to stock up on a few supplies while we're here. We also arranged to rent a car, dropped off some dry cleaning, and baked cupcakes for Valentine's Day. Whew! This retired life is exhausting. The focus of the day was dinner with my siblings and a few of the children. We arranged the dinner so that Judy and Elizabeth could see Sandy's kids because they won't be able to make the memorial service. My sister Judy arranged a reservation at  Ye Old Spaghetti Factory in Tacoma. Spirits were light, despite the heavy hearts, and as befits their reputation, the Spaghetti Factory's food was excellent. Elizabeth and Judy drank a few glasses of wine, so I volunteered to be the designated driver. It's been a while since I drove a car with a manual transmission, but I left most of the gears in place. We made it safely back to Seattle and therefore, life is good, especially today.

 One of our favorite breakfast spots (The original is down on Leary Way).

 Rich coffee and fresh juice: Life is good.

Garden scramble and potatoes. (We shared, as usual).

 My sweet Valentines juicing it up.

 Two Judys.

 My sister Judy's youngest son (Masaki), a new American and a skilled young woodworker.

 Thomas (My sister Sandy's favorite and most handsome grandson). 

 Odessa, my sister Sandy's oldest daughter (Mother of Thomas).

 Odessa with Khalilah (Sandra's son Damon's daughter). Quite a beautiful pair, I'd say.

 A little better shot of Khalilah's pretty smile.

 Another radiant beauty, Taylor, Odessa's daughter.

 My brother Tom (No, we're not twins but there are unmistakable similarities).

 Bianca (Another beauty), her mother (Mercedes, my sister, Sandra's youngest daughter, and her handsome beau, Tyrone. They look very nice together, like they're meant for each other.

 My favorite daughter, Elizabeth (Libby) [Biz to some].

 Chloe, my sister Jennieanne's little Yorkie. (Jennieanne is camera shy, so I respect her wishes).

 Bianca was the one who coaxed Chloe out of her box for the picture. Good job, Bianca!

 As much of the family as I could include without a wide angled lens. 

Adventure 130: Seattle, Washington/Northwest Interlude/PostA

Thanks to O & W, the Bunny can hop the jet stream.

Redemption is so sweet! I used all my nimbly pegness to put that whipper snapping wily cager back where she belongs: second place (I'll do anything for a consolation hug). She would have had a chance to tie, but Betty (The sweetly addled storage lady) forgot to call the cab, so we didn't have time to play at the Palm Springs airport. We were traumatized anyway (It's a Kansas Mennonite thing) because we had to throw away an almost empty jar of mayonnaise, eight Costco turkey burgers, two tablespoons of butter, some yogurt, and an open can of frozen tomato paste. We decided to turn off the refrigerator, so we had to sacrifice twenty bucks. The alternative would be  to return to a trailer with dead batteries, empty propane, and (Likely) a mess of spoiled food anyway. We've entered into a time of uncertainty (What, another day?). At least now the propane and the batteries will be preserved. We can afford to buy some more mayonnaise. At any rate, Fric and Frac are tucked away nicely. Hopefully, they'll be safe and sound when we return. There is an awful lot of traffic in and out of the storage unit. They have security and gates and all, but all it takes is for one person to give the gate code out to some unsavory character. I try not to worry about things that haven't happened yet. Thanks to Orville and Wilbur Wright, we had an uneventful (Quite pleasant, actually) direct flight from Palm Springs to Seattle. Our daughter, Elizabeth (Libby) picked us up and chauffeured us back to her apartment near Green Lake. We walked over to Ocean Thai, a local place we always go to because it's right around the corner from her apartment and it's very good as well. Then we went to the Zoeyogurt  shop for dessert (Just around another corner), and it seemed like deja vu all over again. It's always good to see my favorite daughter (Daughter hugs are way better than consolation). Tomorrow evening, we'll attend dinner with as many of my family as can make it, which will give us a chance to be together before the funeral service on Saturday. Until then, I've been thinking about the notion of the surreal. Not just today, but every time I travel, I'm amazed that I can be one place one moment, and another the next (It takes a little longer than "Beam me up, Scotty", but nonetheless). Every time I disembark, I walk out to what I call 'Everywhere America' (That is when we travel in the states). I see every reiteration of corporate America out there, and in every town there is a Division street and Main street, and most places have an Eisenhower era concrete highway (The old road). It's even more astounding to go overseas because then I get to see the stark differences in culture. Maybe that's why traveling is so fun. The only state I've been to that doesn't spew the corporate culture out in the form of neon lights is Vermont. It's not that Vermont's anti-capitalist (They're as eager for money as any, just ask the leaf peepers) , but they do it in a much more pristine way.  They tuck quaint Inns and lovely Bed and Breakfast establishment in every one of their Green Valleys. They even have laws that prevent the neon signs from being too big. I guess it just doesn't take much to amaze me, but no matter because I'm very happy to be in my little girl's apartment, even though there aren't any neon lights. Happily, we're safe and sound, which means life is good, especially today.

 This is where the "Nimbly Pegging" happened. Breakfast was surprisingly good, too.

 Those wisps aren't clouds, they're jet streams.

 I hope Betty keeps an eye on things for us.

 Not too many airports have palm trees in the main concourse.

 Security was vigilant. If I'd had had a bottle of French Champagne, they'd have said, "You can go back out and drink it, but we can't let more than three ounces of liquid through the gate.

 Butt heads!

 Gene Autry Trail, Bob Hope Drive, Sonny Bono Concourse. What's next, Justin Bieber Egg Road? (Just Google him).

 From gate eleven (Palm Springs) to gate fourteen (Seattle) in three hours. We live in amazing times.

 Fresh rolls with peanut sauce at the Thai Ocean. Pretty yummy gruel.

 Art shot out the window of the Thai Ocean.

 We had decimated the main courses before I remembered to document. Senility or Low Blood Sugar….you decide.

Adventure 129: Palm Springs (Cathedral City)

That orange you see is the last of eighty four degrees.

The Wily Cager stood over me like Mohammad Ali lording over Joe Frazier. My limp spirits riddled by unlucky cards, I had to ask for the consolation hug from the winner of the Lake Havasu Open. We're tied (I think) overall, but the defeat was as bitter as the Lake Havasu City water.  We left the Ellsworth RV park about nine thirty after Mike fixed us breakfast (Again). I knew he was talented, but I didn't know his talents included short order cooking. Our trip through the Mohave Desert was uneventful and even a little surreal. It's been very interesting to watch the desert flora change  from Texas, through New Mexico to Arizona, and now Palm Desert. By far our favorite section is where the Saguaro Cactus grow. Today's section along Highway 62, which stretches along a southwest diagonal from Lake Havasu to I-10, was spectacularly bleak. White sand, scrubby short bushes, and harshly beautiful mountains dominate the landscape. About twenty miles from Palm desert along I-10, the road crests at about two thousand feet, and suddenly a panorama of irrigated green expanse opens before your eyes. It's stunning (And a bit dismaying) to see so much lush green (Much of it in the form of Golf Courses) suddenly appear, especially when you consider that it's completely artificial. Should the apocalypse begin with the drying of the Colorado River, the southwestern resort communities from Tucson to Palm Springs will resemble the Dust Bowl of the Great Depression. Fortunately, I haven't (Yet) been charged with serving on any water distribution boards. I do seriously wonder whether we will develop enough of a hive mind to realize our peril while there is still time to reverse global warming. This is a place where I give myself over to God's plan, and He hasn't confided in me as of yet. But by way of visions,  I did have awfully disturbing nightmares last night. I have quite a bit of subconscious angst working in my head right now. It surfaced in what I call "Edumares". Every school year about a week before school would start, I begin having nightmares about unruly students, my inability to be effective in the classroom, hostile administrators, and uncomplimentary parents. These "dreams' would shake me awake in cold sweat fear. Needless to say, they weren't as pleasurable as the Muslim martyrs dreaming about virgins. The bottom line (As I use my Holiday Inn degree to analyze) is that I'm suffering from the reality that I can't control the events around me. I hate that part. I'm about to enter into a tense couple of weeks. None of it will be fun; not much will be happy; there will be little acceptance; and likely, not much healing will take place. Suffice to say, many of the folks (My relatives) I'll encounter next week do not share my mantra (Life is good, especially today). They think life sucks, it's someone else's fault, woe is me, yada, yada. I also had a maddening visit on the phone with my father, who absented himself from our lives when I was twelve. He managed to raise the hackles on my neck with a few choice judgments of my sister. I felt a little bit like a grizzly, and I found myself asking, "Yea, well, where were you?" Those of you who believe in prayer, and those who light candles, and those who can send Karma, please do. I need it and my siblings do, too. Well, I've enjoyed just about as much of this whining as I can stand, so back to the travelogue. We tucked Fric and Frac into a very nicely appointed storage unit in Cathedral City. We're under cover, out of the heat, dry, and as safe as can be expected. We'll keep Fric and Frac here until things are resolved in Seattle. We were quite amazed to look at the USA Today weather map this evening. Palm Springs is the only orange (84 today) spot in the country. We hope the rest of the country can make it through safely, especially those areas unaccustomed to inclement weather, but for us and many of those here in Palm Desert, life is good, especially today.

  
Hard to believe it was just eighty degrees. I can't imagine a trip here in summer.

 Much of the road rolled like a small circus roller coaster. Whoop-de-doo!

 Along one side were telephone poles. Along the other were names (Hundreds of them) formed in rocks (Some brightly spray painted). They were placed along the berm that supports the railroad tracks. I wondered. What were these people doing out here? Maybe walking across the Mohave is some sort of rite of passage. Only Wikipedia knows.

 A Mohave rest stop.

 We didn't have much company, but we did have some.

Frac tucked safely into his temporary home. Fric will join him tomorrow.

 We chose this newly remodeled hotel near downtown Palm Springs merely for the name. They are marketing this sixties building as a niche resort. It's amazing what you can do with some neon paint and a little advertising. We're loving it!

 Art shot of the day: The side of the hotel.

 Less than a mile from the oldest part of downtown Palm Springs, this reconditioned sixties structure is enjoying a new run.

 The lobby.

 Our bed.

 The Bunny just outside the Flamingo red back door.

 Our thin gruel for the night: cheese, crackers, salami, oranges, apples, dried tomatoes, and girl scout cookies for dessert. Yummy! We cleaned out the refrigerator in Frac just in case we run out of propane before we get back and things spoil.