Washington coast

May 26, 2019

"The Sea was angry that day, my friend."

WESTPORT, WA – It's a five-hour drive west from the irrigated desert of Grandview to the coast of Washington at Westport. The trip takes a lot more time if you stop to do some browsing at the outlet mall in North Bend and at Shipwreck Beads at Lacey.

Shipwreck Beads is advertised as being the largest bead store in the world. I've got a suspicion that there are at least 80 larger bead warehouses in India, but no way am I going over there to find out. Especially not with Kay and Rhonda. – "Criminy, people! Can we get a move on? The beach house is calling!" I came this close to becoming the 2047th man booted out of the largest bead store in the world. Supposedly the largest.

So, it took us closer to three days to arrive here, at least it seemed like that to me. Had Curt not been there, I would've come unglued. -- That's what my Dad used to say when he got upset. "I'm about to come unglued, here!" – Curt is Rhonda's husband and the most calming non-Buddhist on the planet. – He comes up with stuff like, "Calmness is the cradle of power, Mark. So, chill out, before I give you a wedgy bad enough to make an emergency room surgeon weep." -- See? That's all I need.

What say we put all of that past us and focus on our stay here at the beach. We are lodging in this incredible house on the beach. If I could afford a place this nice, no way would I register it on "airbnd". The only people I would trust alone in my beautiful beach house would be nice, old people who would have no inclination to mess stuff up. That pretty much sums up the six of us. Along with Rhonda and Curt, Kay and I are joined with my sister Susan and her husband Col. Don. I call Don "Colonel" because he's a Colonel. If I were a Col. it would be cool if someone addressed me as such.

The Col. wanted us to have a tangible memory of our stay here in Westport, so he bought us each a hoodie with "Westport" emblazoned on the front. Those are the kind of people who are staying at this house. Thoughtful, wonderful… the best. And speaking of Curt, when we got here, the man insisted that Kay and I get the biggest bedroom in this three-bedroom, three bathrooms large living space with a super view of the Pacific. He insisted upon it before Susan and The Col. showed up, or else The Col. might've tried to pull rank on him. Then the entire trip might've gone down the flusher.

In fact, had I not have saved Kay's life, it would've gone down the flusher anyway. The incident happened in one of our beachcombing expeditions. Kay and Rhonda collect shells, rocks, and sticks that wash up on the beach. – By the way, this is the cleanest beach I have ever seen. We've been here three days and the only piece of noticeable trash that I can remember was a carton of one of those protein drinks. Peach flavored. Have you ever had one of those? Not bad.

Okay, so we're walking along the beach the morning after a 3.4 earthquake was registered not 30 miles from here. I didn't feel the tremor, but the wave action was somewhat squirrelly… to the point where alerts were surfing and boating alerts were issued along the coast. Not to worry, we're walking along the beach. Kay had assumed her walking-in-a-stoop posture while looking for sand dollars. We collected dozens of ‘em.

Rhonda and Curt were further down the beach, and Susan and Col. Don were lollygagging back there. They walk in a much slower stoop. I was more inland than Kay but kept an eye on her. The tumble on the airport escalator three weeks back had made me a bit more cautious of unexpected stuff. Speaking of which, a rogue wave suddenly came rushing in and caught Kay completely off guard.

The wave was actually relatively shallow, but fast. When Kay started running beachward, the undercurrent knocked her off her feet and started dragging her out. She laughed at first but then recognized the seriousness of the situation. Scary story made short: I managed to get to her before the next wave hit. While Curt was charging through the surf to get to us, had the next wave hit, He would've had to choose which one of us to grab onto. The one kicking and screaming… or Kay.

It would be quite natural to contribute the happy ending here to fate. However, I have confidence that our survival was covered by something mentioned in Hebrews 1: 14. Kay and I are both very appreciative of that assurance.

We've got a couple of days before we have to drive eastward across the mountains. Chinook Pass is supposed to be open tomorrow, so we'll get to drive right past Mt, Rainier on our way home. Susan and Don live in Tacoma, but they will be following us back to Grandview for the brief time Kay and I have remaining on our vacation. Kay and I will give Susan and The Col. the big bedroom. After all, it's her house. But, more than that The Colonel would pull rank on me if I didn't… and I am completely without rank. In military circles, it's called "rank-less." Sounds about right. – Next time.

end

Contact Mark at hayter.mark@gmail.com

Shadow

May 19, 2019

“Shadow and things that go bump in the river”

Shadow and me reading the newspaper

            GRANDVIEW, WA – You’re just in time to join me for a walk to the mailbox. It’s somewhat of a lengthy, downhill jaunt along a car path covered with powdery sand. Pleasant as it can be. It’s the walk back that might put a strain on you.

            And, it’s the cold breeze that’s going to freeze your buns off on the trip there and back. I’ll wait while you go find your jacket. – Much better. The only thing long-sleeved I packed for our trip was this green hoodie. I thought it might be a bit a chill during our mountain excursions. Didn’t think I’d need it on the dessert side of the Cascade Range.

            I knew we’d have cool nights and mornings. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how easily “cool” could turn to “cold.” It’s obviously tricker-weather we’re facing here in the Northwest. Texans are no strangers to tricker-weather.

            By the way, as we trek along, I need you to be on the lookout for two things. Smooth, flat stones and goatheads. The stones are for Rhonda’s herb garden. My niece readily identifies all of the herbs in her garden by painting the names on flat rocks and tossing them in the garden. Apparently, stones don’t blow away like little cardboard signs. The girl is a genius. Or she reads a lot of gardening books.

            Beg pardon? Goatheads? That’s the demon weed that produces those horned-thorns that will become one with your shoes. We hate ‘em. The thorns, not the shoes. – Oh, and the dog that’s tagging along with us? That’s Shadow, one of Cody’s ranch dogs. Cody is the youngest of Curt and Rhonda’s three boys.

            Cody likes me because he has to. I’m his uncle. Shadow likes me because I usually give her a treat. Without the treat, Shadow wouldn’t give two hoots for me. I don’t think she can see all that well, so I’m fairly sure it’s the smell of the dog treats in my pocket that sends her in my direction. I do the same thing with people who carry around bags of Cheetos.

            Speaking of mountains, Curt drove Rhonda, Kay and me up to Bumping Lake for a picnic yesterday. He had to drive “up” because Bumping is a mountain lake that’s on the path to Mt. Rainier, Washington’s tallest mountain and most active volcano. When this bubba goes off, it needs to be in the summer, when most of the snow has melted and run into rivers like Bumping.

            Bumping River is the source for Bumping Lake. The racing river is named for the sound the boulders make as they bump into each other while being carried along by the rapids. I didn’t actually hear any bumping sounds on our drive alongside the river, but that may be because the collisions couldn’t be heard above the roar of the raging river. It was so beautiful… and frightful.

            Excuse me a second. -- “Okay, Shadow, here’s another biscuit. And don’t give me that look. Just eat the thing.” – Shadow is not a fan of year-old stale bone-shaped biscuits. She’ll eat ‘em, but the look on her face is one of dire disappointment. I hate that in a dog. Cats don’t carry on like that. They don’t care one way or the other. They’ll take it or leave it.

            Did you happen to notice the flat rocks we passed during the walk? I’m not upset at you for failing to be on the lookout. I imagine you realize we don’t pick up rocks on our trip TO the mailbox. We collect ‘em on the back. No worries, I made a mental note of the location for each flat rock I saw.

            Okay, take a breather, while I stick this letter in the mailbox. Keep in mind, we don’t raise the flag on the mailbox when we pick up the mail. That’d be silly. We raise it when we stick something into the mailbox. That way the mailman will know to open the box even if he has no mail to deliver. I hate to insult your intelligence like that, but I’ve known people who had trouble catching onto that concept. I was one of one of ‘em.

            All right, about face. It’s uphill, so pace yourself. Don’t worry about the flat stones. I’ll pick ‘em up. I only need you to carry them back for me. – Oh, yes you are. – “And Shadow, quit smelling my pocket. You’re not getting another lousy biscuit until we make it to the house.” Oh, brother. There’s that disappointed look again. Cody should’ve named  her “Whiner.”

            Oh, one other thing before we move along. Tonight is movie night at Curt and Rhonda’s house. Curt turned their basement into a movie theatre/pool hall. Tonight we’re watching “Independence Day.” The first one.

            Can you believe they’ve never seen it? Over the past 20 years, I’ve seen it about three times. It’s a good movie to watch with someone who hasn’t seen it. It’ll be a hoot listening to Curt laugh and repeat some of the funny lines from the movie. He does stuff like that during the movie. It doesn’t bother me a bit, if I’ve already seen the movie. But, I have a tendency to throw stuff at him if he does during a movie I haven’t seen. That’s pretty much what you’re supposed to do on Family Movie Night. – The movie starts around 7:00. Popcorn will be served. 

            Okay, try not to drag your feet or your shoes will collect goatheads. Remember, we’re collecting flat rocks for “parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.” Sing along if you have a mind to. 

           

end

Contact Mark at hayter.mark@gmail.com

back to washington

May 12, 2019

“Supervisor of left wing exit-door”

            GRANDVIEW, WA – This is what Pooh Bear would call a blustery morning. The wind is brisk and out of the west. The tall grass is blowing in every direction. Can’t make up its mind. There’s a baby goat jumping around in the field over yonder just like it had good sense. Kay has named the goat Jumper.” The Snoqualmie Tribe of Washington State would call Kay “Nongee” -- “Namer of New Goats.” -- I’m sticking with “Sweetpea.”

            I’m so glad we got to revisit our family and friends in Washington State. We jumped at the invitation. I think Curt’s words were, “Kay, you’re always welcome here.” I took that as an invite, so here we are. By the way, Curt is my niece Rhonda’s husband. Rhonda is the niece who will actually put up with her Uncle Notha! The Snoqualmie name has to be shouted. It translates – “Not Him again!”

            I would like to say that the flight up here was uneventful, but it had its moments. One of the good moments was when the flight attendant selected me to be in control of the emergency door at the left wing of the plane. I assume she noticed my demeanor of trust and reliability. Either that or she noticed that I was the one seated next to the emergency door by the left wing of the plane.

            I don’t mean to run down the airline, but I don’t think they considered the gravity of the job of emergency door opener. They acted as if any yokel could handle it. I picked up on that when I noticed the guy sitting in the seat next to the emergency door on the right. What a loser.

            The scary thing was that I wasn’t given much direction. I was told to look at the illustration on the back of the seat in front of me to see out how to open the door. The attendant showed me a couple of pamphlets I could read if I wanted. He said there was a video I could watch if I thought it necessary. I told him I was cool with the mission. I did suggest he hand the pamphlets to the guy manning the other door. He just didn’t look up to the task, you ask me.

            Before he left, I whispered to him, “By the way, when do I open this thing?” He told me not to open the door. He looked over at Kay and said, “Ma’am, don’t let him open the door. In fact, change places with him, would you?” I told the attendant that I was just joking. He said he was too.

             Though I was tempted, I never saw the need to open the door. I’m hoping to get to be the emergency door opener again on the flight home. The best thing about the job is that you get an extra six inches of legroom at the emergency door. Of course, we had to pay for those six inches, but the exorbitant rate was worth it.

            My nephew CJ greeted us at the baggage pickup area upon our arrival at SeaTac at 12:40 in the a.m. -- What a great nephew. – I let Kay steer one of the wheeled suitcases, while CJ took charge of the other one. I accepted the task of manually carrying the two take-on bags. I put one of the straps around my neck and carried the other bag in my arms as if I were hauling an overweight child.

            Long story short, Kay fell down the up-escalator. I was as surprised as you. Unbeknownst to us, it requires a bit of careful planning to balance a large piece of wheeled -luggage on a moving step that is headed upward. We were five steps up when Kay’s suitcase slipped off its step, causing her to take a tumble. Although I’m agile as a puma, I also fell. Ended up on top of Kay’s suitcase which was resting on top of her. And get this – we were sliding down the up-escalator. I thought it impossible.

            CJ saved our lives by yelling for someone to push the emergency button at the escalator’s entrance. Had my nephew not reacted so fast, we would’ve ended up in a pile at the bottom where the steps magically appear.  Kay’s hair might’ve gotten caught in the gears and pulled from her head. Heaven knows what would’ve happened to me. Seriously, I have no idea what would’ve happened to me. 

            Fortunately, we didn’t have to find out because CJ saved the day. I couldn’t help thinking that everybody blamed me for not strapping the two carry-on bags to the suitcase and wheeling the thing myself. Then I would’ve been the person at the bottom of the escalator with my nose caught in the gears. Six of one…

            The good news is, Kay only ended up with some scrapes and bruises. It in no way impeded our drive eastward across the mountains to the town of Grandview.  At the moment, Kay is in bed, and I’m sitting out back where I’m being blown by the wind racing across the hills on its journey west. This is the ranch where Rhonda and Curt live with their family of three sons, two daughter’s in law, six grandkids, and five goats… one of which, Kay named Jumper.

            And today? Today, the real fun begins. I’ll tell you about it next time.

end

Contact Mark at hayter.mark@gmail.com

Dog sitting

 May 5, 2019

“Dog sitting Bella”

            BACKYARD -- I had every intention of coming to you from the rooftop this evening, but circumstances would not allow. For one thing, I have not completely mended from my surgery. If I were to strain my gut while climbing my extension ladder, it would take one of those V-22 Osprey tilt-rotor planes and a large basket to get me down. The government bought too many of those crash-prone planes not to use ‘em.

            Besides not being quite well enough for an assault on the rooftop, you’ve obviously noticed that I have been handed a big responsibility that needs constant attention here at ground level. Say hello to Bella. Don’t expect a response, though. This dog is pretty much a ‘fraidy cat. She’s afraid of people, other dogs, noises and the occasional pinecone.

            Right now, she’s sitting in my lap because she was less afraid of me than the ground. That and the fact that I exude positive dog vibes. Cats run from me, but dogs apparently like what they smell. Before marrying Kay, she agreed that she would not try to kowtow me into getting a dog. -- I selected “kowtow” here because I use it so seldom; I thought it about time to break it out.

            So, you can tell by the way I’m letting this dog lick my hands that I do not hate animals. The only animals that I don’t care to befriend are those I’m afraid of and those I have little respect for. Possums and moles come to mind.

            But, as mentioned in several articles, I don’t like the responsibility of owning a pet. For one thing, you have to take care of the animal’s poop. I’m not a big fan of that chore and have little respect for anyone who is. If you plan to go on a trip, you have to either take your pet with you or find someone else who will feed it and take care of its poop. I am not that person. You’ll need Kay for that.

            That’s why Bella is with us. – Beg pardon? Oh, she’s a miniature poodle. I thought I mentioned that. I didn’t know that Bella was a poodle until today. Stupid me, I thought poodles looked like poodles. They were born with puffy fur on the tip of their saluting tails. They were furry as all get out from the chest to the top notch on their head. Some of them were born with furry calves.

            Oh, and they were born with a combed, furry face, complete with fluffy ears, each of which would make a good potholder. Bella doesn’t have any of that going for her. Our neighbor took her to be groomed for the first time in, apparently, a couple of years. The dog’s fur was so matted that the only thing the groomer could do is sheer her like a sheep. She ended up tying a plastic flower on each of her ears to give her a hint of sophistication. I’m telling you, artificial flowers do not a poodle make. Like I say, if Kay hadn’t told me she was a poodle, I would’ve never guessed.

            The reason Kay and I are dog-sitting Bella is that the rubber band keeping one of the flowers affixed to her ear got wound too tight and ended up cutting off the circulation to her ear. That happened to me in the third grade once, and let me tell you, it’s no joy.

            The vet had to remove over half of Bella’s ear. Now, she couldn’t look like a real poodle if she wanted to. To keep her from aggravating the wound on her ear, the vet put one of those cones around her neck. Bella’s cone is a big zip-on black thing that looks like an insulated bag. It’s too big for Bella, but I didn’t want to tell her that, ‘because she looked pretty pathetic even without the cone. 

            As you can see, Bella is not currently wearing the cone of despair. Kay took it off and told me to sit out here and keep her from itching her ear. Nowhere do I read that stipulation in my “Husband of Kay’s Job Description.”  I do it because that’s the kind of guy I am. The only reason I’m holding the dog is because she came over and climbed into my lap. Like I say, few animals will do that. Kay stopped doing it about 30 years back.

            I don’t know what it is about a person’s face that makes a dog want to lick it. I truly believe that if I let Bella do as she wished, she’d climb up, lick my face a bunch, and then sit on my head. While I don’t have a great deal of dignity left following my hospital stay, I still have just enough to keep a dog from licking my face and sitting on my head. This faux poodle has already licked all the flavorful stuff from both my hands. I didn’t get an ounce of enjoyment out of that, but I let it happen because I figured she needed a sense of acceptance. When you let someone lick your hands, it just screams acceptance.

            Fortunately, Kay will be out here in a minute to free me from this burden. That’s one of the good words – “free.” Other good words are kind, sweet, calm, generous, and thoughtful. Right now, free has them all beat. I’m afraid if Kay doesn’t get here soon, I may have to walk this dog around so it can poop. Now that’s a bad word. It’s one of those words that will keep Bella from staying the whole night. Job description or not, overnight dog sitting would put a strain on this guy’s marriage. What I’m saying?

end

You can contact Mark at  hayter.mark@gmail.com