SUNDAY~FUNDAY #17: Lunch on Steamboat Slough Road

The last few days I’ve not been getting to bed before 4 AM – and sometimes not until 5:30 AM; so, I’ve been sleeping the mornings away … and morning hours is when most people want me to do things with them.

I’m missing the morning meetups because I’m missing Bob.

All of August, September, October, November and December are going to be blurry months. I’m not going to be very attentive, because I’m going to be putting my thoughts on hold. Those months – e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.o.f.t.h.o.s.e.m.o.n.t.h.s. – are going to be hard to get through.

It is true that I’m done with hard grieving.

I’ve never mourned – Bob’s spirit still lives: it just doesn’t live on my reality level anymore; Bob had graduated to a higher level of living.

But I do miss Bob’s presence.

And I don’t want to think too much about those months Bob’s body was shutting down and his spirit was taking flight. So, I am putting those images and emotions on hold.

But sometimes the thoughts jump the safeguards and refuse to be reined in, and hit with a 1-2 punch that hurts; and I am too wired to sleep.

Hence the nightbird and sleepyhead activities of late.

I’m thinking that will continue until well into January 2021 sometime.

People don’t “get it”; and I am tired of explaining it.

Last night (or rather, early this morning) when I dropped into bed; I didn’t wake up until after 9 AM. I’d only had 4 hours of sleep. I wanted to enjoy a Sunday~Funday activity, but a long daytrip drive was out of the question – it just would not have been a safe or prudent thing to do.

What to do?

A long drive was not wise today.

Neither was staying home and feeling trapped by thoughts I didn’t want to revisit; covid restrictions that are never going to end according to fauci; losing hope of ever enjoying the Senior Group activities I joined this year … or becoming an active member of the hike club I had hoped to join (these things have been halted due to covid restrictions and ramped up fearmongering). I hate feeling trapped, and I buck against hopelessness.

While I was making the bed, I decided a half hour drive would be okay: and the activity once I got to where I planned on going, would keep me active (which would keep me awake and functionable); and I’d … hopefully … sleep like a baby tonight after all the walking.

We only get one shot at this life on Earth – I am not going to spend it feeling helpless or hopeless.

Now that my life is so rearranged, it’s time for a cool change; and a river breeze sounded good to me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9bKwRW0l-Qk

I’m not keen on water – it actually terrifies me; but as long as I’m not too close to it or in it (like swimming or boating), I do okay with it. Willow Grove County Park is closer: 5 minutes away, but people swim/and let their kids swim in the Columbia River; and I didn’t want to watch some dumbass, or their kids, drown – I’ve done my stint of death watch in 2018, and I don’t feel the need for Columbia River trauma drama this year. So, I don’t think I will walk the trail at Willow Grove until swimming season is over.

I pulled some clothes on/tied my hiking shoes on, grabbed my backpack, and packed a light lunch – placed atop an ice pack in one of the large containers I used to pack Bob a Supper in when he drove for Lemmon’s: I put that in one of the backpack pockets. I also grabbed one of the books I’d bought at a Headquarters Road garage sale yesterday, and threw that in the backpack too. I planned on spending the whole afternoon at the Julia Butler Hansen Refuge.

The book I started reading while eating lunch.

Julia Butler Hansen Refuge from Heron Pointe - 32 mins

I parked on the Cathlamet Office end of the Refuge this trip. When I had walked the trail a month ago, I had walked the trail from the Skamokawa end (https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-14-julia-butler-hansen.html).

The Refuge Office where I parked the car.

Plan for the day ...

The day was perfect for walking.

I enjoy walking – I enjoy hiking.

I enjoy being outdoors, in nature.

There was a little breeze kicking up, and it felt good: it counteracted the 81-degree sunshine. There was birdsong on the breeze. There was the earthy smell of the exposed mudflats. There was the pungent odors of the sun-warmed fields, cut grasses along the roadsides, and the wildflowers and berries.

I was in my element 😉

The bramble bushes were taller than me, so the sun-warmed, juicy berries, were nose level. Very aromatic.

Blue Nightshade. Pretty little poisonous weed.

The toxic berries that follow the pretty blue flowers of the weed.

Long, thin purple blossoming loosestrife spires.

Large Purple Bull thistle.

Cattails in the slough.

Cows - the gentle breeze carried thier soft moos on the wind.

Morning Glory among the cattails in the slough.

Japanese knotweed. Chartreuse green leaves with a foam green blossom that turns white.

Jewelweed. Tiny orange trumpet-like blossoms.

Tansy. This little flower looks like a lot of tiny yellow dots.

Cow Parsnip.

I happened to look up at the sky when birds flew overhead, and what I saw intrigued me … it looked like twin shooting stars were streaking across the sky:

I watched this for a few minutes ...

The 1.3-mile walk to where I planned to eat my lunch and read a few chapters appeared around the bend. I saw a great blue heron standing in the mudflats between pilings, so I walked gently so as not to disturb it.

Great Blue Heron on the mudflats of the slough.

Bob always liked seeing them: he would have enjoyed seeing this one – it was huge. Apparently, it is enjoying “the life of Reilly” here on the Refuge. LOL

Lunch break spot.

Stinking chamomile at my feet; it resembles a daisy, but the leaves are a ferny vine.

I sat on the cement block eating my lunch, reading my book, and watching the waters of Steamboat Slough, and the Columbia River beyond it, flow.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzLCzhYdxfo)

Vehicles flashed by on their way to Horntra’s Beach. A couple walked past. And a few bicyclists pedaled past. You meet friendly people when you’re out and about.

Lunch finished; book page corner bent to mark where I left off reading … I slipped my backpack on, and got back to walking.

Geese on the mudbanks of the slough.

Baby goslings swimming! I didn't see these until later on, at home when I zoomed pic in.

Little purple milk thistles - finches love this.

Another mile ahead, the Trailhead came into view.

Little yellow balloon blossoms, on the trail - Google was not helpful in identification.

I was dogged by buzzards on the trail ... I’d been walking briskly in the hot sun – I probably didn’t smell very sweet; but I didn’t think I smelled dead. LOL

There wasn’t much happening on the trail.

But I didn’t care.

I walk to free my mind and just be.

I don’t think any more than I absolutely have to when I am walking.

I pay attention to my surroundings, I notice the flowers, animals/sights and sounds all around me … but that’s it: I don’t think too hard. Walking is my relaxing time – my ‘down time’. I don’t walk to brag about where I’ve been. I don’t speed walk to melt off alcohol or dessert calories. I walk to shake off the world’s stress and nonsense. I want my mind free to absorb nature around me – I walk for physical/emotional/spiritual balance. I try not to absorb more than the sigh of the breeze in the treetops, or as it passes by my ears: when I walk, I want nature talking to me: and I want my senses to be free to listen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OnDu1HHOo78

When I reached the end of the trail and pivoted for the backtrack back to the Highlander, my steps had morphed from ‘walk’ to ‘hike’ – by the time I reached my parked car, I would have 5½ miles under my belt.

Purple leaves - white, ball shaped blooms: don't know what it is - Google is not helpful.

The wild roses are done for the season.

Pink, fluffy spire of Rose Spiraea looks like a wand of cotton candy.

Red-osier dogwood; white berries bush.

High tide - geese with goslings have moved to higher ground.

I had spent 4 hours enjoying the pleasant solitude; the cares and worries of the world had been left back home, in Longview. And I had left the car windows open a bit, so when I got back to the car as the sun was slipping towards the horizon; it was in the shade, and cool inside.

I don’t know what I want to do with my life; yet.

Things are in a continual rearranging mode.

Right now, I’m just going with the flow … and whatever happens: happens.

But I know I’ll sleep like a baby tonight 😉

**SUNDAY~FUNDAY POSTS (2020) –

#16 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/08/sundayfunday-16-ive-earned-my-wings.html

#15 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-15-longbeach-illwaco.html

#14 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-14-julia-butler-hansen.html

#13 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/07/sundayfunday-13-haydu-park.html

#12 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/06/sundayfunday-12-fathers-day.html

#11 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/06/sundayfunday-11-kalama-waterfront-walk.html

#10 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/05/sundayfunday-10.html

#9 – https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020_04_27_archive.html

(plus 1st thru 8th SUNDAY~FUNDAY links)**

DÉJÀ VU

Thoughts of Bob followed me all day long.

First thing I did this morning was go out and check my garden boxes for dry soil (they can all wait another day or two), deadhead, glean, and hand-pollinate. Everything is right on schedule and doing good 😉

Thoughts of Bob were with me in the garden area: Bob built the garden boxes for me; Bob built the rain barrel stands, for me; Bob helped me repot the apple trees - Bob's imprint on my life is everywhere.

I am really happy with the apples this year; they are a becoming a nice, full size. Just right for pies :-D

Green zucchini on the vines.

Celery shooting up; Butternut squash spreading.

Spaghetti squash setting squash, and climbing the trellis that used to have peas climbing up it.

I gleaned some more Mascara Lettuce and a few more Blueberries.

The corn is doing very well this year: 6 feet tall!

CORN SILK! Corn is setting :-D

Yellow zucchini on the vines.

Tomatoes setting and ripening.

Fennel bulbs are plumping up.

All 4 rain barrels are filled to the brim. That makes me happy :-D

The original plan after tending to the garden area, was to go for a morning hike on 48^th. BUT, when I got into the car and turned the ignition on, KUKN Country was talking about the garage sales again out Lexington & Headquarters Road way … so, I went that way :-D

Change of plans …

Thoughts of Bob were with me as I walked the Garage Sales.

We had bought our 2^nd local area home in Lexington; it was a good area to purchase in, and it served its purpose for several years after Bob retired. We worked side-by-side to completely overhaul it … we painted ALL the rooms to suit our tastes; we pulled up the old stained carpet and had new laminated wood floors laid; we replaced the woodstove; and Bob revealed carpentry skills I didn’t even know he had (he reframed ALL the doorways and hung new doors, replaced ALL the room moldings – base wood, doors & windows, painted the front porch/steps and the back deck, and designed and built me 6 roomy raised garden beds). We totally remodeled the kitchen. Bob had told me he helped his dad to build the house he lived in in Cathlamet when his Dad, Mom & younger siblings moved to Toutle his Senior year, but I had NO IDEA what an excellent carpenter he was! Bob never did anything half-assed: whatever he did, he excelled at. When we sold, to move here, we sold for triple what we had bought for – and bought the house I live in solo lobo now, with a third of the sale money … remodeling this house with the remaining sale monies. We always bought small, built up with my ability to spend Bob’s money wisely (we did all the labor, I only spent monies for what we could not do ourselves), and sold large: Bob liked that frugal ability of mine. He knew his income was safe with me because I always increased it.

The kids don’t know what they are talking about when they hatefully say I spent Bob’s money willy-nilly: Bob trusted me with his money, and we went over the budget together – ANY MONEY SPENT WAS A JOINT DEAL; and both of us knew how it was spent. I never gave Bob any reason to distrust me – at any time/with anything. Bob’s mother was always bitching about how the other 2 DIL’s were “bankrupting” her other sons, and I said to Bob, “Your mother will never say that about me because I will never give her a reason to say that about me.” I was shocked (1) that rose would dare to say that about her DIL’s (2) that her other sons would allow her to say that about their wives. I never touched Bob’s wallet except when he told me to get some money for him … and then, I always brought it to him, and said, “You get it out – I meant what I said: your mother will never accuse me of stealing your money. My fingers will never probe your wallet.”

Every payday, we sat at the kitchen table together and worked over the budget, paying each bill together. The last time I touched his wallet, was after his physical body died and I was collecting his personal effects after becoming a widow. I still have his wallet in my purse – it comforts me to see it next to mine. I am getting Bob’s Social Security allotment each month because that is what Bob told me to do: he had it set up that way days after we married – it is not a fortune, but Elohim is faithful to stretch it for my monthly needs with a few $$$ for frugal weekly daytrips Bob would want me to take, as we always had; I am still paying the same bills … and I miss Bob sitting next to me, going over the budget and helping me dole out the money he worked for, all his life. I miss Bob not being with me on daytrips; or garage sale trips.

Bob wasn’t really interested in garage sales when we first married, but he went with me because I liked to go to them. Eventually he started looking for tools that couldn’t be found anywhere but at garage sales (stores no longer sold them). And when I decided to have a sale at our homes, he was the guy with the cash box because he was better at making fast change than I am: he was a fast thinker and a human calculator. He even helped me set up the tables and price items – it became a mathematical game to him. Bob got a bang out of watching me sell our second-hand items at a good price; he would shake his head and grin when I’d get more than he thought it would sell for – he used to tease me and say I had ‘the Midas touch’. And he liked the interaction with customers: Bob was a social butterfly, he liked chatting with people, and people were comfortable with him – he was a people person.

His mother – and his children – can kiss my ass. None of them have ‘a right’ to say one way or the other how Bob and I spent our life/OUR money together. They have no right to assume how I am spending it now.

Nada – zip.

Yeah, I am still irked with them all.

I loved Bob from the moment I saw him; and Bob loved me from the moment we met, until the moment he stepped off this planet – Bob trusted me with every material thing he had; and placed it all in my hands the day after we married. I was scared to be responsible for his paycheck and shoved the checkbook back at him, saying I didn’t want the responsibility; but Bob laughed and said he trusted me. I was 17, and he trusted me with our whole life. I loved Bob; I learned how to run our home within the restrictions of the monthly budget – the frugal restrictions (((I))) set to fit his paycheck and to give us a good life that wasn’t slave to debt. I was a good wife to Bob – anything Bob trusted me with, I increased … love, a life, money, children, food, home. Bob loved me, and he appreciated that I was trustworthy/frugal/and productive; he gave me a good life because he could trust me with that good life: I returned that love, and honored him by helping him to increase the good life we enjoyed together.

We had a good life for 44 years: Lexington was part of that.

Going back there today was not easy, but I knew I had to get over that hurdle; so, I went to the garage sales on the streets we used to walk – the only space available for parking was directly across from our old house there: I deliberately avoided that sale; I couldn’t have done it without remembering the love that was sheltered there; and breaking down. I only walked 1½ miles this afternoon because my heart couldn’t take any more ‘familiar territory’. I got some good deals, Elohim blessed me by answering my prayers on several ‘finds’ … but I had to leave without finishing the whole loop. Maybe next year, my heart will be stronger.

Lexington was hopping today.

Every street was packed with cars and wandering pedestrians.

New additions to the neighborhood was this house, and an apartment complex going up on another back street. We've only been gone from Lexington since June 2017.

LOVE THIS STREET! Pro-America - that's a good thing :-D

A cone shaped hydrangea.

A weird shaped apple tree.

1-6.5 miles - would easily have been 3+ miles if I'd done all the streets.

I couldn’t remember how Bob drove us to Headquarters Road, so I called Bob’s sister, Merry, and asked; it was simple to get to, but we hadn’t been there in quite awhile and my memory was a bit rusty 😉 I had to do a little freeway driving – which was not the way we went (Bob always drove the backroads because I like country roads), but I wasn’t on the freeway for more than 5 minutes before I turned onto the overpass access - so I didn't have time to get frazzled on the freeway; thank Elohim! Freeway driving really stresses me; there's just too much going on at the same time.

Every garage sale marker was off the main roadway … and they were ALL gravel mountain roads: e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.o.f.t.h.e.m. At this sale, I bought an armload of books – the bulk of them telling the story of the Boyeln sisters (Mary & Anne) that led to the birth of Queen Elizabeth I:

I am a sucker for anything Anne Boyeln & Queen Elizabeth I. I am a strong woman; so, I like reading about other strong women 😉

Back on the main roadway again, I was surprised that it didn’t go all the way through: it used to. I don’t know when it was closed to through traffic, but suddenly there was a gate across the road – maybe that’s why Bob hadn’t taken me there in quite a while …

Headquarters Road is a gated dead-end.

It was time to call it a day and head the car towards home.

I was glad I went. And on my way back home memory kicked in and I recognized landmarks on the backroads all the way back to the Lexington Bridge. I know now know how Bob drove us there. I’ll never have to touch the freeway at all 😉

And another memory kicked in too: that memory was so vivid and so emotional, it made me pull off the road to have a cry. At one point just before the Ostrander Store, déjà vu hit, and I could feel Bob with me – my mind’s eye could see a younger version of him driving that stretch of road: the clothes he wore, the way he sat, the cigarette between his lips as he shifted gears in the old ’56 Ford, the way his hands were on the steering wheel, the way he turned his head to grin at me and pat the bench seat beside him in a “scoot over here, honey” way he always did.

I almost couldn’t breathe.

Tears stung my eyes because I knew he wasn’t really there – the road was still there … but Bob was not.

It was just déjà vu tripping my emotions.

Thoughts of Bob were running down my face in hot, scalding tears.

So, I passed the Ostrander Store and pulled over in a wide turnout as soon as I could until the tears stopped:

Lexington Bridge Drive from Headquarters Road - 12 mins.

The déjà vu moment was like time had rolled back: it felt like I was reliving that past era, in that particular part of the backroad. All in a 12 minute span of time.

N Pacific Ave as it crosses Lexington Drive Bridge.

Heron Pointe from Lexington Bridge Drive - 17 mins

I was happy to get home.

And I was pretty pleased with my haul when I got it all inside – the shovel and screen in the shed, and the rest in the house :-D Most of what I came home with, I prayed to be able to find …

Bread pans, books, a bird house, wicker paper plate holders – the rest was just bonus finds 😉 I really scored with the picnic basket. Most things were 25 to 50 cents; nothing over $3 (birdhouse & picninc basket). I am vey frugal - I make my pennies scream for mercy.

Winter theme rustic birdhouse. I clipped the hanging wire off; it's decorative, not weather resilient.

I bought this book because of the title – I almost laughed out loud when I saw it, because I can identify with the title.

Bob turned me onto the Clive Cussler novels. I prayed I'd find some ... direct answer to a specific request.

This coffee mug called out to me; so, I bought it.

The mug’s message fits my life right now ... the 2 little covered casserole dishes are the perfect size for meal for 1.

These nice sets of silverware came with the picnic basket – inside the pocketed placemats; I didn't know they were part of the deal until I removed te basket liner and placemets for washing. Have I already mentioned that I really scored on the picnic basket?

As soon as I saw this little shovel, I snapped it up: It's a perfect too to use it in the garden boxes Bob designed and built for me to garden in.

I snagged this free screen to use over my Spring garden transplants while they are setting root and getting established.

I was glad I had this cart today. Our granddaughter, Alyna, saw it one year in a knockoff store we were at, and talked me into buying it; about 18 years ago 😉 It gets used a lot when garage sales are in full play.

Today was an exciting day in the veggie garden.

Today was a blessed day at the garage sales.

Today was a day of memory jogging.

Today was an emotional day.

Today was also a day of growth and moving forward progress.

I am thankful for the whole day – from start to finish. I don’t mind thoughts of Bob bursting into my day. Bob was a huge part of my life – Bob will always be a part of my life. It is only right that he should share a portion of my thoughts while I live the life he made for me.

And maybe someday I will be able to think of my husband without breaking out in tears of missingness.

WASHINGTON STATE 2020 PRIMARY RESULTS

MYTERIOUSLY DISTURBING

This afternoon I had an appointment with the dentist – I had to submit to a temperature check first off – I was fine at 97.5F; I had to have my blood pressure checked – I was told I was doing fine; especially being at the dentist, which would elevate anyone’s blood pressure 😉

Spartan Dentist foyer; most of the furniture has been removed due to covid.

There was a LOT of poking, prodding, examinations, ect. … but NO ACTUAL WORK was done: again, I was told a “cleaning has to be done first.” This is my 2^nd appointment. Exactly WHAT is going to get DONE, WHEN? My mouth has been examined twice. I have been charged twice for doing nothing more than opening my mouth. I have been sent home twice with papers telling me how expensive “the work” will be – but I’d like some ACTUAL WORK DONE before I fork out anymore moolah. Just sayin’. It is going to be expensive, but I do not need dentures and the dentist says the most important thing is to make sure the foundational teeth bone “is stabilized” to head off the need for dentures in the future. I don’t know; it seems to me the ‘most important thing’ lately is bilking me for money I feel had been unfairly forked out: if I spend big, I want WORK DONE – not yap flapping. I’m paying for a dentist, not a shrink.

I’m scheduled for another appointment next Thursday.

I felt my blood pressure increase walking to my car with papers in hand.

Anyway ...

Leaving the dentist’s parking lot, the car started screeching. So, I looked at the dash to see what was happening. All I saw was a yellow triangle flashing: no notifications. So, I checked the dash doodads and they all seemed to be where they should be – the screeching apparently did not concern them. The screeching got louder, and a thumping started; the back tires kinda locked up. I thought, “What on Earth?” I pulled over and got out and checked my tires (they were okay) – I squatted down and looked under the car again (saw nothing out of the ordinary). I got back in the car and started moving … immediately the screeching started again – and yellow triangle was flashing: no notifications.

I stopped the car again – the screeching stopped when the car stopped. I started the car – the yellow triangle started flashing in step with the incessant screeching. I checked everything: windows (all closed); all the dash apps (everything seemed normal); all doors – including the back hatch (all closed). What the heck was going on? I decided to take it into Dick Hannah Toyota in Kelso. Again. I was just there for the windshield; Dick Hannah is becoming my second home.

As I was headed towards the Allen Street Bridge, the left back wheel started shaking and seriously locking up. Then the thumping got real LOUD – at one point it sounded like the backend came undone. I thought, “Oh shit. I must have seriously done something I can’t see to the underside, Sunday; on that horrible mountain road.” I was pretty shook-up at that point and was wondering IF I would even be able to get to Toyota. I passed a little white pickup sitting at the stop sign across from Burgerville and zipped into a wide spot at the edge of the blacktop. I was praying to God I hadn’t damaged the wheel axle. If the muffler was hanging, I could drive it lurching to Toyota … if the axle was broken, I was screwed: it would have to be towed.

As I was jumping out of the car … to check the back end one more time … I saw, out my peripheral vision, that the little white truck had pulled in behind me and the driver was exiting his truck. He asked, “Are you okay? Are you having transmission trouble?” I glanced at him while glancing under the car; again – and said, “I’m okay. My car is not okay.” He said, “I know – I heard it when you drove by. Do you think it’s your transmission?” I replied, “I don’t know what’s wrong with it but it’s starting to scare the hell out of me. I don’t know what a bad transmission sounds like, so I don’t know if that’s the problem or not. All I know is it behaves when it’s standing still, and goes crazy when it’s on the move. I was on a badly rutted and potholed mountain road last Sunday and the backend hit pretty hard twice. I hope I didn’t damage the undercarriage. The racket is awful, and the back wheel feels strange.” He said, “I’ll look it over for you.”

He checked the back tires – said they were fine. He got down on the blacktop and looked underneath – said everything looked okay. He checked the dash and said he didn’t see anything there. He said, “I have an app scanner in my truck, that might help.” He went to his truck and got his scanner; he plugged it under the Highlander’s dash and we waited for the readout. He explained what the scanner was doing and showed me what was happening. He is a mechanic.

Good Samaritan.

He had a scanner that would pinpoint the exact issue. He didn’t find any; and was worried enough to thoroughly check the car over before I drove away.

The scanner didn’t show that anything was wrong with the car. We were both mystified. WE BOTH HEARD THE CAR’S RACKET! He said, “this is a mystery; where are you headed?” I told him I was headed to Toyota in Kelso if the car would make it that far with out exploding. He said, “Toyota is quite a way off from here. Everything checked out – and that is weird. Let’s see what happens when you back up.” So, I backed up (nothing: silence and free movement: no yellow triangle/no screeching). He said, “Go forward.” So, I moved the car forward (nothing; silence and free movement; no yellow triangle/no screeching). I didn’t know if I should be happy or seriously worried. He motioned for me to roll down the passenger window – I did. He said, “We have a mystery here. We both heard what we heard. The tires seem okay. I didn’t see any damage underneath. It seems to be behaving at the moment – hopefully you will get where you need to get and have it checked out. Make sure they lift it and look underneath. Have them do a thorough checkout.” I said I would, and I thanked him.

Then I took off with a hope and a prayer.

The car behaved all the way to Toyota.

I prayed the entire way across Kelso ...

(https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2020/08/sundayfunday-16-ive-earned-my-wings.html)

I was shaking by the time I pulled into their maintenance cubby. I really wanted Bob with me. I told the girl what had happened and she took Bob’s key fob. I went into the lobby to wait. I waited 3½ hours to be told “can’t find anything wrong”:

Bob would have been able to describe the noise to everyone's satisfaction.

Spartan Toyota foyer due to covid.

Toyota Maintenance Shop checked the car thoroughly: inside-outside-underneath-rotated tires. FOUND NOTHING! The diagnostics and chechout was covered by Warranty. Thank God.

I couldn’t believe what I was being told.

I know what the car sounded like.

I know what the car felt like.

It is a mysterious disturbance.

But I know the guy speaking to me thoroughly checked the Highlander out – he showed me the diagnostic paperwork; he drove the car for a ‘make sure’ drive … and then did it again to satisfy me and assuage my concerns. I am glad I did not damage the car on the Gifford Pinchot National Forest roads last Sunday ... and I know I should be glad there was nothing found today that needed fixing. And I am: kinda. It was scary though - an explaination would have been welcomed.

I just left it in Elohim’s hands at that point, and drove home.

When I got home, I decided to drive to Skamokawa and get Supper at the Duck Inn - the car behaved. The mysterious disturbance remains a mystery. The Captain’s Platter I ate there a few weeks ago was good, so I thought I’d repeat that again tonight: I did. I also decided the day called for a beer … so I ordered a non-alcoholic beer to drink with my fish supper – it’s not actually void of alcohol, but it is very weak in alcohol and will not intoxicate. That works for me since I am now a solo lobo doing all the driving:

Brought half home to eat later on ...

I had 1: I know how to self-discipline; but O’Doul’s is nonintoxicating beer. It’s basically flavored water. Totally safe on every level.

Driving home, along the river, I saw a sailboat (couldn’t find a spot to pull over and capture the frame); a tugboat, and a ship. I don’t like water … but I don’t mind watching boats move through them. I know – I’m a weirdo 😉

Tug pushing a barge on the Columbia at County Line.

Ship anchored off Willow Grove.

Close to home, I passed the spot where Doug died 24 years ago. Seeing the memorial kinda put my day into perspective: cars can be fixed – death is final. There’s no fix for that …

Linda faithfully tends Doug's Roadside Memorial; Linda is the only 1 left out of her entire family. She is ‘the baby’.