Just East of Eden : 08/05/20

Wednesday, August 5, 2020

EVEN NOW ...

Bob and I had eaten Supper in Longview, then went dancing one hot August night in 1974; at a dance club in Longview on Vandercook: above the Chinese Restaurant that was there then.

This song was blaring from the mega speakers that had the room shaking as we paid the door fee, had the back of our hands stamped, and ordered our beers. Mr. Clean was playing with his band ... AND HE LOOKED EXACTLY LIKE the Mr. Clean guy.

Even now, I can see it all clearly in my mind’s eyes, like it was only yesterday.

I was only 17, but I wasn't carded because I was with my 6'2 gentle giant – who splayed the small of my bare back (I was wearing my holey jeans and a halter top) with his large hand as we moved through the crowded room: and the door bouncer figured I was old enough if I was with my protective fella ;-)

I didn’t like other guys putting their hands on me in a possessive way … but when Bob touched me in a way that transmitted to other males, “this girl belongs to me”, I didn’t mind. I liked that Bob wanted to get that message across. I liked that Bob felt protective with/towards me. I loved Bob. And I loved Bob’s hands on my body; I liked the sound of my name coming out of Bob’s sexy mouth. I liked the way my body responded to his fingertips branding my skin with his tender and gentle love – and I liked the way my whole body tingled when he breathed my name.

I miss the sound of Bob’s voice.

I miss Bob’s hands.

I miss the way he could ignite desire by simply touching me and saying my name.

Even now, 44 years later … plus the 19 months/22 days/11 hours & 44 minutes he’s been living in another realm of life … the sky is still burning – and he is still my soul’s desire.

Hot summer nights will always remind me of those hot summer nights with Bob; who my mother thought was ‘bad company’.

Hot summer nights will always remind me of the 4 months when we were young – when we couldn’t stop touching each other – and when the world was our oyster.

I love you, Babe.

Always ~ OX

DAYTRIP w-TRUDY & ED ~ Mt. St. Helen’s

Yesterday, Trudy texted me and asked if I’d like to get out of the house and go with them to Coldwater Lake, and stop at Seaquest State Park on the way home … I said. “Yes! I’d like to go.”

I’m all for getting out of the house every chance I get 😉

I didn’t dress fancy; I was going to be outside with wind blowing, so there was no point to dolling myself up to play tourist. I just washed and dried my hair, pulled a pair of jeans on, yanked a polo shirt on, and tied my hiking shoes … I am not a delicate flower – I really do pull and yank 🤣😂

So, they picked me up around 9 AM this morning, and we were off.

We each brought a lunch of sandwiches; and Trudy brought 3 homemade Whoopie Pies – SO YUMMY! I slipped my sandwich and cola into their cooler and buckled in.

We started off the day with a drive up to the Johnston Ridge Observatory.

The weather was favorable, and stayed nice all day – even at the higher elevation. The Observatory sits on a bluff 4,314 high in elevation, and 5½ miles from the steaming dome bulging out of the cavernous volcanic crater left after Mt. St. Helen blew her top in 1980:

Johnston Ridge Observatory from Heron Pointe. 1 hr.25 mins

Wildflowers; Dandelion, Lupine, Daisies, and Indian Paintbrush greeted us along the paved path to the Johnston Ridge Observatory viewing platform.

Trudy & Ed.

Me, Trudy & Ed.

The crater dome ... steaming.

Bob & I spent a lot of time fooling around the foothills of Mt. St. Helens; either on the Harley, or in the ’56 Ford – I liked the mountain, Bob liked the Lake ... and at the time they were joined at the hip. Our daughter, Stacey, had her 1^st ‘out-of-house diaper change’ on the flanks of Mt. St. Helens when she was just a week old.

People get excited about the smoking crater, when they look at Mt. St. Helen, now: I remember what was; I remember how saintly beautiful Helen was before she threw her explosive temper tantrum that destroyed forests for miles around, and literally lifted Spirit Lake from where it lay at her feet … and catapulted it miles away with a massive wave, to drop it in a new locale 200 feet above where it used to lay so serenely.

When I look at the volcano, I do not see powerful beauty – I see powerful destruction. When I watch steam rise from the bulging dome, I see a temper barely held in check. I can’t look at the ugly gaping maw for too long: I want to remember the majestic beauty that is gone forever in my lifetime.

So, I focus on the regenerating life that is slowly settling upon the ravaged land again - beauty out of death. Life up there is slowly regenerating, and it is exciting to see; and experience …

What Mt. St. Helens & Spirit Lake looked like before the May 18^th, 1980 eruption: it was a beautiful setting.

Spirit Lake transplanted.

(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spirit_Lake_(Washington))

The violent eruption drastically altered the lake’s locale, depth, and sustainability. The lake now, is shallower; and toxic.

Mt. Rainer peeking over the peaks, through the haze ...

Topless Mt. St. Helens. When you see the massive size of the headless volcano, you feel so small. You feel humbled.

Trail

Large basalt boulders; rocks interest me. These look so small in the distance, but I am sure that ‘up-close-and-personal’, they are GIGANTIC behemoths.

Me; I’m standing several feet above the Observatory – and the Observatory is 4,314 feet above ground zero. But my asthmatic lungs aren’t feeling any distress at all.

Johnston Ridge Observatory seen from where I stood on the trail - it looks like a WWII bunker. MPO.

We walked the monument loop, from the observatory back to the parking lot. People we met along the way were friendly and talkative.

Pretty, and colorful little trumpet-petaled wildflowers hugged the paved footpath. Tiny, annoying, swarming bees unmercifully pestered us when we walked too close to their sweet-tree (I was carrying protection in case of a sting); and a chipmunk amused us with it’s hamming for attention:

Lilac hued trumpet flowers.

Pretty little trumpet wildflowers - kinda pinkish with blue edging.

Little Ham 'Munk; he teased and teased ... but I finally 'got' him 😉

Photo-op chipmunk. He knew just what to do … and how to pose for maximum effect. LOL

We left Johnson Ridge Observatory, and drove to Coldwater Lake, where we ate our lunches – the cherry tomatoes Trudy and Ed shared with me were tartly delicious: they tasted like full-bodied tomatoes, not those hothouse tomatoes sold in grocery stores. And we were all commenting on how stuffed we were after finishing off our woopie pies 😉

Then we took a leisurely stroll along the paved footpath, and planked boardwalk.

Last time I was there was with Bob and Precious (my wolf: ½ Timber Wolf/½ Gray Wolf).

Precious has been happily romping the Happy Hunting Grounds for 6 years – that’s how long its been since I was there. We used to drive out there once in a while to enjoy the quiet, and let Precious run free when we were the only ones there.

Bob is walking beside her beyond the clouds now too; Bob has been gone from my life for 19 months/22 days/18 hours-9 mins.

I am glad they are enjoying each other’s company again, but I miss them both down here …

Bob and Precious, 2 houses ago; Bob playing one of his online games ... and Precious wanting to play games. Merritt Drive – 2006

Coldwater Lake was created 40 years ago during the Mt. St. Helens 1980 eruption; it was created by the huge landslide of debris that wildly raced down the North Fork Toutle River and birthed this lake into being. It is a popular place for summertime recreations – today, we 3 were picnicing:

Coldwater Lake from Johnston Ridge Observatory - 8 mins

Coldwater Lake Information Plaque. We ate lunch here.

Kayaker in Coldwater Lake. This lake was created with the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. Both parking lots were packed; this was a very busy place Tuesday afternoon.