The Dam Bridge is Done!

Some of you might be getting a tiny bit tired of hearing (reading) about me complain about crossing the Hoover Dam when traveling from Vegas down to Arizona, most recently to visit Jill and Jared and family. WELL, last week I drove down there again and at LONG LAST, the dam bridge is done!

A friend of mine is lamenting that she wanted to go down there and drive over the top of the dam (on the old road) ONE MORE TIME, and my question is, WHY? WHY WHY WHY? If you want to visit the dam, visit the dam and leave us passers-through out of it!

And this is why I'm so happy about the bridge being done. Earlier this year (around March I think) I was driving down to Arizona and, as I sat in traffic trying to cross the dam, I took a few pictures of the progress on the bridge. Here are the bridge progress pictures. The first one was up close while I was driving by it from underneath. The second one was after I crossed over the dam and was ALMOST past the mess of traffic.

While I was sitting in traffic, I accidentally snapped a picture of the dash of my car. It's not the best picture and you can't see it that well, but it does tell a story. Here it is, and note how fast I'm going when I took the picture. That's right. Zero. I was STOPPED IN TRAFFIC. Just what you want when you have a six-hour drive ahead of you.

Now take a look at what crossing the dam is like now that the bridge is done. I took this picture last Wednesday, late afternoon. I was driving in the rain, so this picture isn't the greatest, either (please excuse the coffee filter with popcorn in it sitting on the dash, that's how we Mormons use the coffee filters at the office--popcorn snacking) , but notice that it's a beautiful, wide road with no stoppage at all! And they've built it so that you can't even tell that you're how-many-thousand feet off the ground, it just feels like you're driving along on a normal road anywhere.

And here's the best part. Take a look at my dash THIS time. That's right. Sixty miles per hour. Hallelujah and glory be! The dam bridge is done!

Aww! Cute, cute puppy!

I just had to add this video I got from a friend. This doggie is so cute!

Adventures with Grandpa – August 2010

The weekend before last I drove up to Salt Lake City with Dad for April’s first temple session. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t have enough material for an ‘Adventures with Grandpa’ chapter because it was such a short trip. After all, we left on Saturday morning and returned Sunday afternoon. Surely you can’t squeeze too many adventures in 36 hours or less! WRONG!

First of all, I must explain why we didn’t leave for Utah until Saturday morning. Several months ago, April called and invited me to come to the temple with her family on August 21. I said I would go. I marked it on my calendar and it became “something I’m doing a few months from now.” Fast forward a little bit, and Cheryl, a friend of mine from work, came by my office to tell me that Weird Al was going to be in Vegas this summer. I always go with her, so I agreed to go again. It didn’t occur to me that those dates might collide until after she had bought my ticket. Weird Al was FRIDAY night; the temple session was SATURDAY afternoon! I couldn’t tell Cheryl I wasn’t going with her, since she had already bought my ticket. And I couldn’t miss April’s session.

Meanwhile, Joanna had told Dad that we would drive up to SLC together. This meant that I would have to leave Vegas pretty early to meet Dad in Cedar City, as we usually do. I didn’t bother trying to explain to Dad about Weird Al. I just didn’t think he would understand. I just told him I had other plans on Friday and couldn’t go until Saturday.

Of course this meant that I wasn’t going to get much sleep Friday night. The concert was a lot of fun, as always, but I didn’t get home until around midnight, and I still had to finish packing and stuff, and I had to be up by 5:00. I had talked to Dad about meeting in Cedar City. I said I was planning to leave at 6:00 AM. He asked, “You want to meet at 6 AM?” I said NO-NO-NO; I’m going to LEAVE at 6 AM! Shoot, if I was going to get to Cedar at 6 AM, I might as well not go to bed at all! Ugh, I’m glad I got that cleared up before we left!

I was pumping gas at the Sam’s Club gas station when Dad called for the first time at 6 AM. I told him I was on my way. He said that he would get in the car and leave, and I told him NO, wait an hour! Make another sweep through the garden! Anything! He sometimes seems to think that we’re driving the same distance (actually it’s about 95 miles for him, close to 190 for me), and I always get a lot of razzing from him when he always beats me there. One trip, I was just leaving Vegas when he called to say he was already at Joe and Marie’s, and asked, am I almost there? He really gave me a hard time that trip. But I digress.

This trip, when I got to Joe and Marie’s house, Dad was there (of course) and it looked like he was about ready to jump into my car and go. His suitcase was open on the sidewalk and he was digging through it, looking for something. It wasn’t until I returned from visiting the bathroom and getting the home remodeling update from Veronica (very nice, by the way!) that I realized that Dad had locked his keys in his car and was searching through the suitcase for a spare set. His keys were still in the ignition.

I don’t know how he managed to do it (lock the keys inside), but I don’t have any room to criticize. Just a month or so ago, I did it myself. To make a long story short (and you never thought I would ever actually do that – shorten a story), I had rented a truck to move Jenny’s stuff from her apartment to my garage. After all of Jenny’s friends had unloaded the truck at my house, I locked the truck and went inside the house to take a break before driving back across town to return it. It was probably 112 degrees that day and I was melting! When I decided to leave … guess what? Keys in the ignition, doors locked. The rental place was already closed for the day, so I couldn’t call them. I could call Pop-A-Lock, but that’s extra time and expense, and it was a work night for both Jenny and me, and she was meeting me over at the rental place. I went back inside the house in search of a wire coat hanger, and it took me a while to find one (NO – WIRE – HANGERS – EVER!) Luckily for me, I had left the windows cracked open a bit in an attempt to keep the truck’s interior below the boiling point, so I had a little room to negotiate, even though the truck had those smooth door locks that can’t really be grabbed. Then I spotted the wing windows in the doors. I maneuvered the coat hanger over there and managed to unlock the wing window. After pushing that open, it was easy to reach in and unlock the door. Success! Nobody would have even known that I did such a dumb thing (lock the keys inside) if I didn’t blab about it.

Anyway, back to Dad and his car. Dad had told Veronica that he had an extra car key hidden behind his back license plate, so I suggested we just get that one so we could get on our way, and eventually he did. So off we went. We hadn’t even left Cedar City when I asked Dad if he had remembered his temple clothes. He always brings them (and how he can squish so much stuff into such a tiny suitcase, I’ll never know – it’s about the size of Jacob’s lunch box), but this time he forgot. We were going to the Draper temple, and they don’t rent clothes there. When we stopped for gas, I sent a text to everybody I could think of to see if anybody had extras that he could borrow. Before long, everybody was combing their neighborhoods for extra sets of clothes. Eventually Shayler called to tell me that his parents, who live in Colorado, had gone there without clothes (the temple clothes, of course – I’m sure they were actually wearing other clothes when they arrived – but it’s amusing to visualize) and the temple had some for out-of-towners to borrow, so it turned out that Dad could (and did) borrow clothes from the temple, so that was eventually resolved, but not without a bunch of scrambling around and panicking first, which is always a fun addition to any trip.

We eventually made it to Draper and met Joanna and Shayler at Wendy’s for something to eat before the session. Afterwards, we were all standing together in front of the temple, trying to decide what to do next. We wanted to go eat somewhere but had no idea where. Everybody was chatting, and Dad was having a hard time hearing us. He got a bit frustrated and groused that we weren’t including him in the discussion and that we were all laughing at him because he couldn’t hear. I told him quite seriously that we weren’t laughing about it, we were crying. And that’s the truth! How about we all pitch in a few bucks and get him a new set of hearing aids? They’ve got to have better ones that what he has!

Somebody mentioned Chuckorama, and everybody stampeded to their cars. Even though we were a pretty big group (10) and it was a Saturday night, we didn’t have to wait long for a table. Everything was really good and we had a great time.

We went to Joanna and Shayler’s place to spend the night. They have a second bedroom with Joanna’s old twin bed in it, so Dad slept in there. I brought my air mattress, and I slept on it in the living room. Joanna and Shayler’s church starts at 9 AM, so we were up early the next morning, competing for their one bathroom. Joanna got in there first and then came to wake me up when it was my turn, calling “Wakey wakey!” (I wonder where she got that?) She also aimed her hair dryer at me every time I passed her in the hall, saying “Whoops!” I swear, everything I did to those kids when they were growing up is coming back to haunt me now. Next they’ll be vacuuming up spiders and chasing me around with the vacuum cleaner.

Dad had brought a melon from his garden for us to have for breakfast on Sunday morning. He had explained to me that he had skipped eating any on Saturday morning just so we could have some on Sunday. We had put it in the fridge Saturday night. As I was getting ready in the bathroom, I could hear him talking to Joanna. She was telling him that it was his turn to get in the shower, and he kept saying that he was afraid that if he left us alone with the melon, we would eat it all and he wouldn’t get any. And, after all, he didn’t even get any Saturday morning. She eventually convinced him it was safe to get in the shower, but as soon as he closed the bathroom door, she decided to hide the melon from him. She grabbed it out of the fridge and put it in the ice chest I had brought. Then we sat and happily anticipated his return to the kitchen. Of course, the first thing he did when he returned to the kitchen was selecting a knife from her knife block (“none of these are very sharp”) and opened the fridge. He looked. He looked some more. Finally he asked, “what happened to the melon?!” Joanna sang out, “I guess it got eaten!” I got to watch him chase Joanna around the apartment and attempt to choke her when he caught her. Then we had some cantaloupe!

I was sitting at the kitchen table putting on my makeup and Dad, happily eating his melon, was sitting there with me and providing a running commentary on what I was doing. How many face lotions do I need, anyway? And why am I putting on another kind of powder? What’s that stuff on your eyes supposed to do? When he suggested that I needed more blush to try to better attract a new husband, I called Joanna back into the kitchen and told her that the potatoes for dinner needed peeling NOW and we put him to work at the sink. (She said it could wait until after church, but I assured her that it couldn’t!)

We walked to church. Joanna and Shayler’s current calling is to teach Gospel Doctrine in Sunday School, so of course we had to stay for that. (Dad complained that we were skipping Relief Society and Priesthood Meeting, but I told him that since we usually escape after Sacrament Meeting, we were making improvements, slowly working our way up to the full three hours.) After Sacrament Meeting I visited the ladies’ room, and I guess I took longer than expected, because when I joined them in the Sunday School class, Joanna and Shayler were already up front teaching the lesson. As I sat down next to Dad, he loudly announced, “DO YOU FEEL BETTER NOW?” My reply to him – SHH!

We had a nice dinner with Joanna and Shayler and then began our journey back home. In between falling asleep, he woke up and complained that I wasn’t talking much. I was secretly listening to my iPod with one ear bud. I needed a little peace and quiet! We parted ways in Cedar City and both made it home alive. It was a short trip, but a fun one!

Adventures with Grandpa -- Trip to Washington 2010 Chapter 5

ODOMETER: 1,526
Here we go with the fifth and final chapter of this edition of “Adventures with Grandpa.” If you think this has dragged on forever, imagine what it was like to experience it firsthand!

We got up early and left Ron’s house about 6:00 AM. Ron’s daughter had wanted to cook breakfast for us that morning and Uncle Frank wanted to pack us a lunch before we left, but we were (or I was) anxious to get on the road. Vera had the afternoon off! We had to get there! We didn’t get very far down the road, though, before Dad announced that he wanted to stop and visit a friend in Redding on the way, someone he “hasn’t seen in 50 years.” I was getting the idea that this might be an elderly person, and to be honest I wasn’t excited about it. Dad was sure that we would only be there for a couple of minutes, but you know how that goes. I can’t remember the woman’s name, but Dad called her with his cell phone to tell her we were passing through and wanted to stop and see her. She said that she would love to see us, but she had an important appointment that day and wouldn’t be home until around 3:00 PM. Since we would be passing through Redding more like 11:00 AM (even earlier if I had any say in it), Dad decided that we wouldn’t be able to stop. DARN!

Another thing that Dad has always done whenever we are driving toward California is sing, “California, here I come. Right back where I started from.” Unfortunately, that’s the only part of the song that he knows, so he sings just those two phrases over and over again. He’s done this all my life, and this trip was no exception. He also likes to sing a variation of our national anthem, the punch line of a joke he heard many years ago, “Jose, Can you See?” He repeats that one phrase over and over again, chuckling to himself, and will tell the joke AGAIN if you let him (I didn’t). When he isn’t singing one of those things, he amuses himself by singing, “Only 597 more miles to go. 597 more miles to go. High ho the dairy-oh, only 597 more miles to go,” every time we pass another mile marker with the mileage to our next destination on it. I can remember us kids singing that song when we were traveling as a family and it used to drive Mom crazy. Now I know where we got it! (He admitted to me that it irritated her when he sang it, too.) As a child I didn’t understand her irritation. Believe me, I do now!

A description of the trip also wouldn’t be complete without listing a few of his driving habits. During the first part of our trip (up through Nevada), I felt safe letting him drive. Wide open spaces, nobody on the road, a few animals here and there, not much to worry about. Driving on freeways in heavy traffic, though, can be a bit (even more than a bit) scary. He complains about the cruise control in my car, saying that it didn’t work. I ask him if he turned it on. He answers yes; in fact he turned it on twice to make sure it was working. I would have to try to explain to him that if he pushed the button twice, he likely turned it off again. He couldn’t seem to recognize the little light that comes on in the dash when the cruise control is on. He also likes to speed up and slow down, just using the cruise control instead of the gas pedal and brake, which can also be pretty crazy in heavy traffic. Then there’s more complaining about how it isn’t working right. In my mind I’m thinking, “If you would just flippin’ stop friggin’ messing with it, maybe just maybe it would!” Outwardly I’m just bracing for impact.

In addition to constant complaints about the cruise control, he was always adjusting the height of the steering wheel. There we are, careening down the freeway at 70+ miles per hour, and he decides to make an adjustment. He releases the lever, moves the steering wheel, and then tries to hold the steering wheel in place while fumbling around to try to find the lever to tighten it again. Meanwhile we are passing semis and zooming around corners. He couldn’t seem to tighten the steering wheel again, so there we were, driving along with a steering wheel that is flopping all around. It’s a miracle I have any hair left at all. Meanwhile, he is wondering why I don’t take a nap while he’s driving.

Back to the trip, we drove along, passing through Oregon, California, and down towards Sacramento. When Dad was driving, I relieved my anxiety by texting Vera and attempting to laugh it off. It’s either laugh about it or cry! We finally arrived at Wiscombe Funeral Home midafternoon. I doubt that there are many other visitors there who fall out of their cars and kiss the ground when they arrive! Vera came outside to greet us and led us inside. She noticed me furtively glancing around and laughingly told me that there were currently no “customers” present. What a relief! Shawn Wiscombe, who lived in Caliente for a number of years and was even Dad’s neighbor for a while there, came downstairs to talk to us. He plans to sell the mortuary and move to Texas. I was worried for a moment that Vera would follow him there (it would be even harder to visit her there), but she wants to stay in California. The mortuary is adjacent to the University of California Davis campus, and Dad mentioned that when he was choosing his college, the final decision was between UCD and Utah State. He enjoyed looking at the campus and thinking about what his life might have been going there. It’s kind of mind-boggling to think what a difference that choice might have made to our entire family’s existence! Funny how small decisions can change everything.

We had a grand tour of the facilities. Very interesting! Then we went to Vera’s place, a cute apartment. We sat down to chat for a bit before going to dinner. I thought I was doing my best to include Dad in the conversation, but before long, snoring sounds came from his side of the sofa. That meant that it was safe for Vera and me to have a REAL conversation! Just talking without repeating, explaining, and rewording for Dad’s benefit!

After Dad woke up from his nap we went to a nice Italian restaurant. Then we went on a long stroll through an arboretum that’s maintained by UCD. They have a lot of plants that are labeled with their common and Latin names, so of course we had to stop every three steps or so to read another sign and examine the plant. Of course this doesn’t mean that we only analyzed the plants that were labeled. We looked at unlabeled plants, too, and tried to divine their origins. And of course there was later the inevitable quiz. Anyone who has spent any time at all with Dad knows this drill well.

I guess I shouldn’t tell this part of the story (TMI), but here I go anyway. (Besides, I asked Vera, and she said I should go ahead!) When we first arrived at the arboretum, Dad tooted (it was just a little one), and I thought it sounded just like a quack. I looked over at Vera and asked, “Did he just step on a duck?” We grinned maniacally at each other and I started to tell her a few family stories on the subject (mainly starring her father, my mother, and one of my old boyfriends). Right then we turned the corner and there they were … some ducks, floating serenely on the river. It really tickled me and I started to giggle so hard that my vision blurred and I could hardly walk. Vera had to elbow me a few times to get me back on track. Dad apparently didn’t notice my hysteria and continued to examine all the plants, commenting on their history and origin, which got me going even worse. I guess you had to be there, but the memory still causes my eyes to leak a little.

After touring the arboretum for a few hours, we returned to Vera’s house, where she graciously slept on the couch so that I could have her bed and Dad slept in her second bedroom. We (Vera and I) stayed up too late chatting, but it was worth it. It was so nice, such a fun visit.

ODOMETER: 2,061
Early the next morning we got up and headed for home, another long, arduous drive. I have one more description to tell before I finish this long thing and get it published. It happened not long after we left Vera’s place. We were driving over Donnor’s Pass, and I was behind the wheel. Dad decided it was time for breakfast, so he got out his little plastic bowl and poured in some cereal, but he couldn’t find his spoon. I told him that I might have one in the console or glove compartment of my car, so he dug through them, but the best he could find was a spork, one of those fork/spoon things they give you at Taco Bell. I tried to tell him that it would work okay, but he wanted his spoon, so he decided to crawl to the back of the car to look for it. He undid his seat belt and proceeded to climb into the back, crawling across all of the junk we had piled back there (it seemed so full of stuff, I’m not sure how we managed to put Amanda’s cedar chest in there, too – Vera can attest to it, she had to attempt to ride back there between the mortuary and her apartment the day before). Keep in mind that we are traveling down a mountainous, curvy road and I am speeding around corners. There was an occasional THUMP from the back of the car where Dad bumped against one side or other of the car as he searched. I was also nervous that in his return to the front seat, he might kick me in the head or something (memories from long trips with my siblings and me crammed in the back of a station wagon kept returning). He never found his spoon, though, and eventually returned empty-handed. He resigned himself to using the spork. He pulled out his bottle of Caliente tap water, poured it over his cereal, and ate.

We made it back to Caliente about 3:30 PM. We loaded my newly-refurbished bird cage (it was falling apart and Dad fixed it for me – he originally made it for me many years ago) and I was on my way.

ODOMETER – 2,796. Home again, home again, jiggity jig! I survived another adventure with Grandpa!

Adventures with Grandpa -- Trip to Washington 2010 Chapter 4

ODOMETER 1366 (still) – the flip side

When Dad and I first started talking about going on this trip, he said that he would like to come back through Oregon and visit Uncle Frank. I suggested that maybe we could go see Vera, too, while we were driving around. We decided to check into it. We worked the mileage numbers a couple of times and I just couldn’t see how we could do it without taking an extra day. If we drove from Cristie’s place to Uncle Frank’s place and then on to Vera’s place on Monday, that would be 725 miles, a bit far for one day’s drive, especially since we wanted to be able to spend time with both Uncle Frank and Vera on that same day (plus I wanted to see Cousin Ron, too, since Uncle Frank lives near him now). Driving from Vera’s place to Caliente (575 miles) plus me driving the rest of the way to Vegas (160 miles) on Tuesday was 735 miles, another really long day, and I had to be back to work on Wednesday. It just didn’t seem possible. A week or so before the big trip I was hashing it out with Dad over the phone (again) and finally I told him that the only way we could do it is if we left Cristie’s place after church on Sunday and traveled part of the way then. I didn’t know if Dad would want to go for it, since he hates to drive on Sunday, but I guess his wish to visit his brother and Vera won out, so he agreed to it. Of course Cristie and her family were bitterly disappointed that we were leaving them a day early, but them’s the breaks. (Actually, they were probably celebrating.)

My plan was that we would leave Cristie’s house and go to Uncle Frank’s place. Since that was only about 190 miles, I figured we could hang out there for a few hours and then drive further towards Vera’s place before stopping for the night. It would make Monday’s drive shorter and we could spend more time with Vera. She had told me that she could get off work for the afternoon, so I wanted to get there as early as possible. The day after my discussion with Dad, I sent an e-mail to both Uncle Frank and Cousin Ron, telling them that we were going to be in their town on Sunday, June 20 (which also happened to be Father’s Day), probably mid-afternoon. I said that we would like to stop and visit them for a bit if they were available. I sent off the e-mail just before going to lunch that day. By the time I came back, I had responses from both of them. Ron said that Dad had called Uncle Frank and told him that we were spending the night there, and two of Ron’s sons were going to be out of town that day, so he offered those two bedrooms for us to stay. Uncle Frank’s e-mail said basically the same thing. My dad, the big blabbermouth! I should have known he’d jump onto the phone immediately! So much for my plans!

Cristie told me that her church is a half hour away from her house and in the direction we were leaving town, so she suggested that we leave from church (probably another excuse to get rid of us sooner), so that’s what we did. We went to church and then got in the car to drive to Uncle Frank’s place. The car was getting very low on gas, so we needed to stop at the next available gas station to fill up. I was also eager to change out of my church clothes. We drove off into the rainy, curvy, mountainous roads and passed several small towns without a gas station. I was starting to get worried that we were going to run out of gas. Finally, in a little town called Elba (yes, the same name as the place where Napoleon was exiled—I don’t know why that seemed appropriate), we found a gas station. I left Dad in charge of filling up (it was an old pump and we had to get help operating it from a friendly passer-by), grabbed my clothes, and headed inside, only to be told that they didn’t have a bathroom. As I gaped at the woman in astonishment, she suggested that we go to the train depot down the street. Over $3.50 per gallon for gas, and no bathroom. Elba, indeed. We drove on.

Further down the road, we stopped so I could change. Dad didn’t understand why we couldn’t just keep going to Uncle Frank’s place and I could change there, but I didn’t much like the idea of arriving and saying “Hi-where’s-the-bathroom?” Since I was driving, I exited the freeway and stopped at a Wendy’s. Dad said he would just stay in the car. I went inside, used the bathroom, changed my clothes, bought a Frostee for Dad, and returned to car. The car was empty and, of course locked. No Dad and no car keys. There I stood in the cold, wearing short sleeves and crop pants with sandals, clutching Dad’s Frostee and my purse in one hand and a bundle of church clothes and high heeled sandals falling out of the other. (I could add drama to the story by saying it was also raining, but at that moment it had stopped. And people think I exaggerate!) I walked in and out of Wendy's a few times, but no Dad in sight. I thought about trying to call him, so I pulled out my cell phone and saw that Cristie had called a couple of times (my phone was still on silent since being in church), so I stood by the car and called her back. Right when she answered, my car alarm started going off. If I was trying to be inconspicuous, that plan was over! It turned out that Dad had pocket-activated my car alarm while coming out of the Wendy's bathroom, but it took me a while to convince him that yes, that's our car blaring away, and not only did he set it off, he had to make it stop. And, of course, he didn’t want the Frostee (but he ate it anyway).

(In case you’re wondering why Cristie was calling, she had given us faulty directions and could have gotten us seriously lost while we were frantically searching for a gas station, but we were able to figure it out before we got too far afield. See, Cristie, I didn’t even mention that part! Aren’t you glad?)

We made it to Uncle Frank’s place and Dad’s neighbor, Bob, called Dad’s cell phone right when we were getting off the elevator. Bob had a gift for calling right when we were arriving somewhere. He called when we pulled into Brenda’s driveway, he called at Uncle Frank’s place, and again when we arrived at Vera’s. We were standing at Uncle Frank’s door and Dad motioned that I go ahead and knock, but I wanted Dad to be WITH me when we arrived, if you know what I mean! Finally Dad told Bob that he had to go and we went into Uncle Frank’s room. He is in one of those nice facilities with a private apartment upstairs (Uncle Frank’s is a one-bedroom with a kitchen and everything) and a dining room downstairs where they serve meals. Uncle Frank had made arrangements for us to eat dinner with him, but dinner time was a couple hours away. I sat down between Uncle Frank and Dad, and the fun began. Imagine sitting between two older men, and neither one can hear very well. Uncle Frank would say something, and I would have to turn and repeat it to Dad. Then Dad would respond and I would have to turn back to repeat it to Uncle Frank. And on and on and on. It wasn’t very long before the whole process was getting very old. The afternoon seemed to drag on forever and I was wishing that we had stayed at Cristie’s church for the classes! Uncle Frank did have the cutest dog, though. It’s a Corgi, and they aren’t allowed to walk them in the building, so Uncle Frank had a little red wagon leaned against the wall for the dog to ride in when he takes her in and out of the building. Uncle Frank had her do a bunch of tricks for me, and she was so cute. It’s so nice that the people living there can have pets.

Eventually Ron arrived, and we went for a tour around the building before going to eat dinner. In the recreation room we had a little contest throwing bean bags at a target, and I was able to demonstrate that I can’t throw at all. At dinner, they have young girls waiting on the tables and serving the food, and they were so cute with the elderly people living there. The food was really good, too; we had prime rib! It was all very nice. Partway through the dinner, Ron’s daughter called; she had accidentally locked herself out of the house, so he had to rush home and let her in. Good thing it’s only five minutes away! Also during dinner, Ron suggested that he and I go back to his house to talk so that Dad and Uncle Frank could “catch up” there. Dad immediately seemed suspicious. Where were we going? What were we going to do? I thought it was kind of funny. It’s like he thought we were going to get into trouble or something. After dinner we returned to Uncle Frank’s apartment and Ron mentioned it again. I grabbed my coat and we left.

Ron is very musical, and even back in high school he rigged old equipment so that he could record himself playing the different musical parts and harmonizing all by himself. Now he has equipment where he can record 12 different parts himself. I’ve always liked listening to his music, so he played some for me. He participates in a gospel group with some other musicians, and they had some original songs that he played for me, too, that were really good. After that, we just talked. His wife, Jean Ann, died about a year ago, and he told me all about that. He himself was diagnosed with cancer a couple of years ago, and his own future is uncertain. He is on a cancer medication that he takes every day, and his cancer hasn’t advanced for several years. He believes his cancer has been held in check by prayer, and I admire his faith and devotion. As I’ve said in prior blogs, we don’t share the same religion, but we do share the same faith in Jesus Christ. It’s always fun to talk to him about that.

Eventually Dad and Uncle Frank arrived, and after a bit more chatting and some brownies baked by Ron’s daughter, we all went to bed. It was a very nice visit, and I’m glad that Dad blabbed about us spending the night there. We got up early the next morning and continued on our journey.

Next chapter: Visiting Vera and goin’ home.

Adventures with Grandpa - Trip to Washington 2010 Chapter 3

ODOMETER 1366 -- bump bump bump … another one rides the bus!

We finally made it to Cristie’s place. Hooray! The weather was so nice – cool and cloudy and rainy. Some might not consider that good weather, but when you’re from Vegas, you really come to appreciate something that is something other than hot, DANG hot. Cristie has a really nice house and her back yard is enormous. There’s a little play house on stilts that I can just see my grandkids climbing into (not me, babe). Her back porch is probably about the size of my whole back yard. Anyway, I attempted to sleep in on Friday morning, but somewhere around 10:00 I heard Cristie backing her school bus into its parking space next to the house (“beep…beep…beep”), so I decided to get up. Of course Dad was already up, had been for hours, I’m sure (no “wasting daylight” for him).

Cristie offered to let us go on her kindergarten run (picking them up at the school and taking them home), so we jumped at the chance. It was pretty interesting, sitting there watching Cristie drive an enormous bus down the street and pick up a bunch of chattering kids. They were LOUD, and as she drove along, Cristie watched them in the mirror, constantly saying, “Crystal, sit down, honey. Billy, get back in your seat. Jacob, sit on your behind.” And on and on and ON. This was the second to the LAST day of school. I hate to think what they were like on the first day! One of them opened his back pack and took out his toys, which rolled down the aisle to the front of the bus and had to be confiscated until we got to his stop (not supposed to get toys out on the bus). Half a dozen of them left their papers and other things behind. They were hilarious. At some of the bus stops, mothers were waiting with gifts for Cristie. The gifts were passed back to me for safekeeping and of course I peeked: candles, note cards, earrings, candy. I swear, none of it jumped into my purse (much).

After the bus ride, Cristie dropped Dad and me back at her house while she finished driving her routes. Cristie had a gas grill in the back yard that she’d been having trouble putting together, so Dad and I went out there and finished the job. If there had been any propane in her tank, we would have fired it up!

Samantha came home from school and before long, she and Dad were out in that huge back yard kicking the soccer ball around, playing catch with a baseball, and doing a bit of batting practice. It made me tired just to watch them! I couldn’t fully represent my sister without taking a few pictures of this great Kodak moment, so I went inside and got Cristie’s camera and took a few shots. That used up the little bit of energy I had. (Like I said -- look at the size of that YARD!)

That evening we went to a graduation party at Hannah’s house, Amanda’s friend. Hannah and one of her sisters went to Nauvoo on a family trip with us a few years ago and she has gone on summer vacation a few other times with Cristie and her girls, so Dad and I felt that we know her, too. After eating grilled hamburgers and few other things there, we went shopping for a new dress for Amanda to wear at graduation. Sam and I had fun running around Ross finding more things we could try to beg Amanda into trying on. We weren’t very successful in getting her to try on much, but she did find a cute purple dress to wear (not that you could see it under her cap and gown). Sam found a dress she wanted to try on, too, but Cristie was pretty adamant that Sam couldn’t have any more new clothes, even if it was only $10. Before you know it, Dad had his wallet out and was ready to buy the dress for her. Sam and I raced to the fitting room so she could try it on before the opportunity disappeared or Cristie found out (whichever happened first), but the dress was too short, so the game was over. I thought it was so sweet of Dad, though, to want to buy it for her. (For those of you who may be wondering where I got so much energy after being too tired to even WATCH Dad and Sam play catch in the back yard … HELLO, this is SHOPPING!)

The next day, Saturday, was Amanda’s graduation. We had to be there early and I was afraid that there would be a lot of time sitting around bored, waiting for it to begin, and then the usual boring graduation thing. I’m sorry, but graduations are boring, even when it’s my own kids. BUT I was wrong! No boring sitting around before the ceremony!

Like I said, we had to be there early. Before we left the house, Cristie was busy on their front porch taking pictures of everybody in every conceivable combination. Me and Amanda. Sam and Amanda. Me and Dad and Amanda. Dad and Amanda. (You get the drift.) Amanda was getting impatient, worried about bad traffic on the way to the Tacoma Dome and the fear of being late, so we kind of rushed to the car when the photo shoot was over. We were at least half the way there when Amanda let out a wail that in the rush to leave, she had forgotten her saxophone, and she was supposed to play it in the senior band during graduation. She was upset. I suggested to Cristie that we drop Dad, Sam, and Amanda off at the Tacoma Dome. Dad and Sam could get seats for us while Amanda joined her classmates. Cristie and I would rush back home and get the saxophone. We agreed that it was worth a try. There was heavy traffic, but Cristie stopped at the crosswalk in front of the Tacoma Dome so that the others could get out. It was also pouring rain. Amanda and Sam got out of the car, but Dad, who apparently hadn’t heard what was being planned, continued to sit there in the back seat. Traffic was beginning to pile up and Cristie was feeling the pressure. After all, she could lose her job driving the school bus if she got a traffic ticket. I’m sorry to say that we yelled at poor Dad to GET OUT! GET OUT! He suddenly realized that he was being ejected from the car and into the rain and didn’t have any idea why, but probably years of being yelled at by Mom kicked in and he bailed. We roared off. I still feel a bit guilty when I remember the confused look on his face. There he was, innocently staring out the window when he was ordered out of the car. Oh well…we did apologize later, and he was fine with it. He said we just should have told him. We didn’t bother to explain that we tried. Sometimes it’s easier to just apologize and move on.

Cristie and I raced home and got the sax. I also grabbed some umbrellas, something else we had forgotten earlier. We rushed back, fighting even heavier traffic. It was almost time for the graduation to start when we got near, so I told Cristie to get out at the same crosswalk; I would park the car and walk in by myself. After all, it wasn’t my daughter that was graduating (and I wouldn’t be too heartbroken if I missed some of it … sorry, Amanda). I carried all five umbrellas into the stadium and got there right when it was starting (these things are always late). Amanda successfully played her sax with the rest of the band and graduated. And, of course, it had stopped raining by then and we didn’t need the umbrellas at all.

Next chapters -- visiting Uncle Frank and Vera!

Adventures with Grandpa -- Trip to Washington 2010 Chapter 2

ODOMETER 707 – Twin Falls

We stopped in Twin Falls to get some gas. I left Dad in charge of pumping the gas while I went inside to visit the ladies’ room (okay, the female truckers’ lounge). When I wandered back out, there was a crowd around the cashier and I got there just in time to hear her tell Dad that someone else was pumping our gas! I elbowed my way up to the front and asked what was going on. Apparently the payment part of our gas pump wasn’t working and had instructions to pay inside. When Dad went to the counter to pay, they asked him for his pump number. He glanced outside, saw a dark blue car, and picked the number next to it. Wrong car, wrong number, and as luck would have it, the guy swiped his card right when the Dad’s card was authorized, so he innocently began pumping “our” gas. I looked at the cashier, and she said that they take no responsibility for these problems, and I’d better go get that guy before he drove away with our tank of gas. I didn’t know exactly how we were going to get our gas away from the guy at the pump, but I ran outside. Dad was still standing among the crowd at the counter, trying to figure out what happened. The cashier had shut off the pump as soon as we realized the mistake and fortunately the pump guy was on his way into the mini mart to find out why the pump stopped at $40 and change. I was glad that he didn’t get in his vehicle and peel out of the parking lot because I wasn’t sure how we were going to give chase before we filled up the car.

I explained to pump guy what happened, but he was sure his card was charged, so there was a bit more debate with the cashier about whose card had been authorized first, and the waiting crowd at the counter grew larger and more agitated. Pump guy yelled that it was the cashier’s fault for not looking out the window and checking the pump before she authorized Dad’s credit card. The cashier yelled that it wasn’t her job to check. Pump guy repeated that it was, and Dad, who by now realized what had happened, tried to make himself heard above the din to explain that he was to blame for not picking the right pump number. I was just trying to figure out how to get our $40+ from pump guy, get some gas from the correct pump, pick up some food, and get on our way. Eventually pump guy gave us the cash and Dad used it to pay for our gas. I was grateful that we didn’t run into more trouble with pump guy, and you would think that our encounter ended there, but I wandered to the back of the mini mart where the hot takeout food case was located and found myself standing in line next to pump guy and his wife and kids. Pump guy’s wife began singing the praises of the jalapeno corn dogs and the whole pump family gave me their evaluation of everything inside the case. They had no opinion on the chicken salad I was holding. I felt almost obligated to give the jalapeno corn dogs a try just out of gratitude for the easy resolution to the gas pump fiasco. As we awkwardly walked to our respective cars together, pump guy repeated his opinion that it was the cashier’s fault, I said that it was probably Dad’s fault, and we drove our separate ways.

Our next stop was Brenda and Andrew’s house in Boise. When we were planning this trip, Dad suggested possibly staying at their house that night. Dad had the assignment to do the asking part. Time passed, and when he called to nag me about other arrangements for the trip, I asked if he had talked to Brenda yet. No, he wanted to wait because Brenda just had a baby and it seemed too much to ask. Finally I started looking at the Boise hotels and realized that I had enough Country Inn points to stay in Boise for free, so I went ahead and made the reservation. I told Dad that we could go and visit Brenda and her family, but we would stay at the Country Inn. He seemed fine with that decision.

Back to this first day of the trip, somewhere between Twin Falls and Boise Dad suggested that we should just keep driving and get to Cristie’s place today. At first I said no, we already have this room reservation, and it’s still so far to go, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of getting the driving over with and having more time to spend at Cristie’s. We arrived at Brenda’s house; I hadn’t been there before and their house is so nice and the boys were so cute. Brenda even got the baby out of bed so we could hold him. That’s sacrifice, waking a sleeping baby! After relaxing for a few minutes I decided that I really liked the idea to keep driving to Cristie’s place, so I stepped outside and called the hotel to see if we could cancel and still get my points back. They said we could, so we were set! Dad tried to claim that he was just kidding when HE suggested we do this, but there was no turning back! The room was canceled! Cute little Keagan kept asking us if we would stay and eat dinner with them, and I kept saying we couldn’t, we had to get going, but it was so comfortable sitting and chatting with Brenda, Andrew, and the boys that we were still there when it was time to eat. There is no dragging Dad out the door when there’s food on the table, so we ate dinner and then drove on our way.

The drive took longer and was harder than I thought it would be. When we stopped in Pendleton to get gas we still had over 300 miles to go, and I was feeling a bit weary. I wasn’t necessarily tired, but I was eager to get there and get this over with. If I could have changed my mind about staying somewhere, I would have, but it was much too late! When I sent Cristie a text telling her how much further we had to go, she responded that they were going to bed and to call when we were getting near. That’s when I realized that they still had school the next day. If I had realized that, we probably wouldn’t have kept driving, but it was too late now! I regretted it even more when we hit fog further down the road. I hate driving in fog, it’s so scary! I tried not to think about any critters that might jump out in the road, too (wishing for that deer navigation area right about then). We kept going. Dad was falling asleep, so I decided I would plug in my iPod and listen to one of my own audiobooks (we had been making the usual attempts to listen to Dad-approved audiobooks on the trip without a lot of success). I would use my earbuds (actually just one of them). The problem was, the earbud case was in my purse, which was behind Dad’s seat. I reached behind him and carefully managed to tug the purse free without disturbing anyone (you know who). I rummaged through the purse and found the earbud case. Yay! Unfortunately, as I was trying to put the purse back behind the seat again, I managed to smack Dad in the head with it, waking him up completely. Game over! And I had been SO careful when I pulled it up front! After that, instead of going back to sleep, Dad would sit quietly for a while until I started to relax. Then he would make a really loud >>YAWN!!<< sound and about startle me out of my seat. After a couple hours of that, I was ready to ROCK him to sleep (you know, with rocks).

We finally arrived at Cristie’s place at 3:00 AM. We unloaded the car, staggered to our respective rooms, and collapsed. Everybody, that is, except Cristie. By then it was about time for her to get up and get ready to go drive the school bus! Poor Cristie!

Stay tuned for more …