They were both awkward when it came to the opposite sex. Yet,
shyly they met. And then waited in each others thoughts and dreams.
My wife's friend came to visit.
She stayed a couple of days,
And as she said goodbye,
I saw my wife had some teary eyes.
Longingly, I said to myself,
I wish I had a friend like that,
And it occurred to me that I did...
My wife.
Everywhere you turn, it's there
There's no way to escape it
Yet with all its inconveniences
Who would want to forsake it?
It drives your soul within
yourself
To look within your mind
And those who dislike the rain
Fear what they might find.
Dec 24, 2024
Early this morning I had to go run a Christmas errand. I had to pick up my prescriptions before the pharmacy closed. It was raining steadily outside but it was only 7 miles, and I'd be in the car the whole time. I grabbed my jacket, the car keys, and left my wife to bake cookies while I was gone.
Down the road I go, heater on, wipers wiping. I stopped to get the mail. Christmas cards. Drive down to the 4-way stop just as a small truck is making a left turn in front of me.
On the left road, a small sedan is approaching the intersection faster than it should be. He brakes hard to let the truck turn.
I look at the sedan. He is stopped so I continue on my
journey through the intersection. The sedan comes in the road behind me and as I am coming down the hill,
I sense that he may be in a hurry. He is not tailgating, just there.
There is no place for me to pull over so at the bottom of
the hill but just past the roundabout, I see a spot on the shoulder to stop and
let him pass. As soon as I do we are both back on our way. He drives on ahead.
Around a slight bend, not a second later, the driver leaves the road and goes 10 feet up a short embankment and goes airborne over a small ravine. The rise up the embankment causes the vehicle to a slight roll to the left side. As I am driving by I lose sight of them. But immediately pull over, turn on my hazard lights, and run the 10 yards back to the ravine railing. The car is lying right side up, the driver's hands on the wheel. The passenger has opened her door and is on her phone dialing 911, as am I. Mountain roads, no service. We were the only two cars in sight, well mine was on the road, theirs was out of sight in a ravine. I see other cars coming. I flag them down. No one stops. Both ways. Nothing.
I yell down to see if there are any injuries. The passenger says the driver is having a seizure but she is fine. I try to flag other cars. No one stops except one lady. She was able to call 911. The sheriff and ambulance were on their way.
It’s still raining hard. My jacket is getting rain-heavy. I climbed over the railing to see if I could get down to help. I was in sneakers, with bad hips, and bad ankles. I am 66 years old. If I go down that slope, I'll be stuck too, with no one to guide for help.
The passenger, the driver’s girlfriend, is trying to help. We are communicating. I told her help was on the way.
After 5 minutes help arrives. Sheriff, highway road crewman, and then paramedics. I give my statement as others arrive. Sheriff's officers, EMS, and road crew. Lane blocked off. Road safe. Paramedics at the vehicle. Help has arrived.
There are many emotions. The occupants appear to be safe. The officers had my information, so rather than be in the way, I left to go about my business, worried that I did not do enough.
Later, at home, the state police called asking for more information. The occupants were taken to the hospital about 20 miles up the road — no serious injuries.
Two days later the image still haunts me. A vehicle right in front of going flying over a ravine. I am constantly asking myself. Did I do enough? I am going to be more prepared in the future. Ropes, raincoats, and anything else that might be needed in an emergency. We have an emergency kit in the car, but it was little things like band-aids and such.
I think back on this and wonder. If I had not let him pass, would I have seen him go over the ravine? Would he be stuck in the ravine for longer than the 30-minutes he was? What more could I have done? I am glad it all worked out like it did? No serious life-threatening injuries. And yes, I have bee praying for a good outcome.
DN.
Middle school little leaguers growing up. A new season, a new December. High school baseball tryouts. Pint-sized gladiators in a new arena. Running Drills across the outfield, right to left.
My son, Smiley, my hero, the last runner, enjoying being there, coming up short.
He comes home and puts his running shoes away. Different challenges await.
Author's Note: This article originally appeared in our local newspaper, River Talk Weekly, in April, 2024.
There are many chapters and passages in life. My wife and I are in our Autumn years, reaping the harvest of years of work and family life. The fruits of our labors have allowed us to live mortgage-free with no desperate claims on our time.
Ah, retirement. After half a century of work, my wife and I are both looking forward to enjoying life as we get to discover new things. We are finding that with our newfound free time, we want to explore as much of this world as possible.
We live in a semi-rural setting. We are away from metropolitan areas. We had been talking about getting out to explore the night sky, and the beautiful natural areas around us. Alas, we hadn’t always found the right “time”.
We were watching the local news a few months ago and we heard about a meteor shower coming up. So, this weekend my wife and I drove out into rural Washington State, hoping to see some meteors. Yes, we were watching the weather. Rain, overcast, and above those clouds there was a full moon. We didn’t think this through, but we hit the road anyway.
We drove out to Goldendale, WA, a small farming town of about three thousand five hundred people. The town has been around for over hundred and fifty years. Fifty years ago, this town built an observatory (https://www.goldendaleobservatory.com). They were far removed from the light pollution of the big metropolitan areas, and it seemed like a good place to put a telescope. We signed up for the 9:00 p.m. to midnight visitor’s slot for the observatory program.
We arrived at the observatory at our chosen time, along with maybe 20 other diehards. The observatory is now a state park and we wanted to go and visit anyway. The Ranger on duty that night, Troy Carpenter, Observatory Administrator, gave an excellent tour of the telescope and facilities. After an introduction to the nighttime telescope alignment and operation, we were escorted into a classroom where we were taught the history of the universe. All learned because of the interpretation of light from a telescope. It was raining and cloudy outside so all of our learning was virtual, and we did not get to look through the telescope. Very poor planning on our part.
We learned about the light emission spectra, the light absorption spectra, and the history of stars. 13.7 billion years ago was the Big Bang. The most common elements were hydrogen and helium. Over the next 13.7 billion years the rest of the elements were developed when the fundamental particles, neutrons, electrons, and protons, collided with each other and formed the various nuclei of the different elements we see today. I was fascinated. Here we had the explanation to all of the universe. The how and why of what is going on with life. It put my little 65+ years in perspective and brought forth a great many questions. How much can one man’s action change the world? Or the course of history? And even, what is this world? What is life?
Normally, the insignificance of the human animal and, indeed the earth, would have sent me into a weird conundrum of despair and depression. (I mean, in the vastness of space, what is the point of it all?) I have spent my entire adult life wondering what this life is all about. I haven’t yet figured it out. But I am on the cusp of something. I think this weekend trip may have helped.
My upbringing in the Christian faith told me that God created the earth in six days and on the seventh day he rested. 13.7 billion years divided by six equals 2.283 billion years. I am now convinced that God works on a different schedule than you or me. I understand more now.
On our way out of town the next morning, my wife and I stumbled across the local Goldendale history museum that had been made from a local lawyer’s house in the 1920s. We decided to take the tour. The house was a large, spacious, three-story house with an attic. Each floor had about one thousand square feet.
We were lucky enough to have a guided tour by the museum director. Every room was period decorated and, on each wall, hung several portraits of former residents. These portraits were in black and white and showed separate images of the man of the house, or the lady of the house all dressed up elegantly in their Sunday Best go-to-meeting clothes. We started talking about these. The director said that the museum had a room in the basement with “loads” of these portraits lined up like books on the floor. Many local families, 3rd, 4th, or 5th generations, inherit these heirlooms and have no personal link to the family members who passed away twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty years before their birth. There is no repository for these histories. No repository but the local museum. The history docents at the museums love to research old photos. I got into a discussion with the old docent this weekend. Families these days do not know what to do with the photos. I, myself have often wondered. We live in a small house and have limited wall space. But this house had numerous walls all adorned with many photographic portraits of former residents of the town, the only place for a family’s old heirlooms and stories.
I have done a lot of thinking about my life and work legacies over the past few years. I have two beautiful children to carry on my name and character. My siblings all have kids, and we all share a general character and values that I believe we are passing on. I hope someday my kids will fully understand the gifts I have given them. I do not know what they will do with our portraits after our days on this planet are done. They may be digitized, stored on some computer drive or in the cloud somewhere, or stuffed in an old trunk relegated to someone’s attic or basement.
Where will that trunk be forty years from now? Will my children go through my belongings when I am dead and gone and look at the old photos for a few minutes to reminisce about their aunts, uncles, and grandparents? Will the photo ever be taken out and re-hung on a wall? No, I doubt that. The pictures, the lives, the memories, shared and forgotten do not have a life beyond the realm of family. They just become portraits of no historical value other than the life stories of my children and nieces and nephews.
A hundred years from now, our photo will just be a portrait of a family long forgotten. Such is life. Life is transitory. Families move. People live and die. Memories fade. The true value is in the spirit. The values and character that we pass on. We provide comfort and warmth, and we try to leave values and character. That is our true gift, our true legacy.
Late early morning walk. I am late this morning. My early morning walk started at 9:30AM. I walked from my house down the street to the railroad trestle. The trestle goes across the local creek. The salmon are about to start running and I wanted to see if there are any fish in the stream. Three weeks ago my son and his girlfriend and I walked out there and saw what looked like a steelhead resting in a pool. (Upper right hand quadrant of this photo.)
These days we all have a cell phone with a camera at the ready to capture those beautiful sights. Moments of glory, captured. Sometimes you just have to drink it in. This happened a few years ago.
One trip from Oregon to Tahoe,
through evergreens and mountains
going down old Hwy 89,
the wife and I drove around a bend
descending into a small gorge,
where on the other side of the river was a train,
with two locomotives exiting a tunnel,
steam and smoke billowing,
truly a picturesque sight burned in my memory,
but I was driving, could not take a picture,
probably would have lost it anyway,
but after 5 or 6 years,
I can still see it in my mind's eye.
I met "Bambi" once. It must have been sometime in 1980. After living in New Orleans for ten years my family decided to move back to California. My dad had just gotten a new job in California and my family moved from New Orleans. My parents and younger sisters settled in La Mesa, CA (a San Diego 'burb). I had my own apartment but was looking for other things to do in my life.
In the San Diego Newspaper there was an ad for a hotel in the high Sierras. The hotel was looking for kitchen help. I applied. I had always wanted to move to the mountains. I wanted to get back to the hills. So I applied. I had four years experience as a fry cook and I was hired.
I loaded all of my belongings into the back of my new old pickup truck and moved to Lake Tahoe. People asked me if I was afraid to make such a move. I think I was just to young and stupid to know there should be fear involved. I had no problem. I thought this is what people do all the time.
I started work in late August 1979 at the big coffee shop in the hotel. A few months later I was transferred to the New York Deli. In the New York Deli I met Bob. Bob was the lead cook and we became fast friends. He was from Montana and I told him I had always wanted to go there. I loved mountains and wanted to hike and fish.
Bob became a mentor to me. He became my best friend. He was later to be the best man at my wedding. But Bob was always a jokester. We would play practical jokes on each other all the time.
File clean-up:
Memories.
Sitting at the computer looking for something new to write about. Looking for something to get the creative juices flowing. I found this gem from about 28 years ago. I think my son was about 4 years old.
My wife and I were both working and to help our daycare situation we worked staggered hours. I went to work early and picked up the kids in the afternoon while my wife works late. I usually had dinner ready when she got home from work and we then sat down for a family meal.
One particular Friday
evening, my wife and I and the kids were watching TV when we thought that
popcorn would be a good idea. My wife
went into the kitchen and pulled out the air popper from the cupboard. She was plugging it in and adding the popcorn
when my three-year-old son pulled up a chair to watch. My son was so amazed, that he had to remark,
"Gee, Mom, I didn't know you could cook."
Ah, from the mouths of babes. My wife is a great cook. It just worked out that at that time in our life I took on those duties.
Our son is an amazing kid. He was a happy, smiling kid. His nickname on one team was "Smiley".
