cookies

We have a peasky neighbor.

He is 8 or 9 and comes over several times a week to get candy and cookies.

He comes in saying he wants to visit, but it is the sweets he wants. Miriam will ask him how old he is and where he goes to school and whether he likes school and where he lives and then rotate them all back again. I let the kid suffer.

So today he came over as she was making cookies. She has done this pretty well for a long time, but now it just is not working well. She fussed for a couple hours and then baked two or three cookies on a pizza pan. She gave two to the kid and said she did not want to make any more.

The dough was in a stainless steel serving pan, maybe 6 by 10 and 3 1/2 inches high. She was putting plastic wrap over the top of the dough when I last saw it.

Now it is gone. The kid may have taken it, but he is a pain, not a thief, though he likes to wander and wonder about what we have, but that 6 or 7 pounds of cooky dough has disappeared. It is here somewhere, but not in the refrigerator or the freezers (either of them) or the cupboards or the pantry.

When we need cookies I need to make the dough and then let her portion it onto the pans. That should make her feel good about what she did, but be a bit more on quality and quanity control.

The recipe she uses has a half batch and a full. I know she sometimes puts in ingredients, one from column 1 and one from column 2, so the results are not consistent.

Another reminder that the good old days are changing.

partnership

Today a friend came to visit. We did that for a while.

Then I said: “I am looking for a partnership that would eventually end up in ownership.”

“There is too much dirt here, more than I can ever take care of. I will need to sell it one day, maybe fairly soon, and I am making you this offer.”

Yes, he said, he was very interested. His european born wife already has said she liked our little house. “American houses are so BIGGG,” she added. He has said how much he liked the garden space, the trees, the orchard and the possibilities.

He is a good guy the son of good people (my grandma would say he “came from good stock”). He is an avid gardner and a friend I could trust. His world view is so close to mine.

I have lived in this place a long time. I built it in 1976, 35 years ago. I was 39. It is the only house I have ever owned. My parents gave me the lot so “Dave could build a house for his girls.” My mom loved my girls, and wanted to help me and us.

She helped more than she could know.

Yet, an event like what happened today is both a celebration and a sad day.

I think you can understand.

A good picture like the top one could bring forth all sorts of stories and tales!
One of the buildings in the Birds of Prey Center was donated by a wealthy falconer from the Bedouin tradition.
This is a group of plastic men in the display tent.
I still don't know what kind of a bird that is, but it is "cute."

quiet home

Everyone is home, though the little red car is not yet.

On her way back to pick up her husband, the "Check Engine" light came on on Arline's rental car. She called the rental company and they said to park it and they would be right up with a wrecker and get the car (they were about 20 miles away). It was done, Arline met her husband who was coming back from a hiking trip with two of his sons and they made it home.

Today Dea left, with her fab teen sons, for SanFrancisco. She text me this evening to say she was home.

It was a great busy time, filled with good talk, lots of laughter and good food. I will cherish the memory.

At one point, Dea was in the kitchen and she let out a shriek. My AD wife, precious as she is, had put a stack of ice cream dishes back in the cupboard with the clean dishes. Of course the milk soured and it was odoriferous. Oh well.

After everyone was gone, Miriam and I went out to Lowe's and bought the sheetrock to cover the ceiling and walls in the new closet. Tomorrow is scheduled to have a high temp of 46, so it would a good day to work inside.

Before the I84 was bludgeoned down the columbia gorge, this point was part of the trip. Trucks drove within a few hundred feet, on an incredible narrow highway. The view up the columbia (east) is still stunning.

surprise guests

Dea, daughter 3, drove up from SF to visit.

She brought her two teen sons, Griff and Josh. All was good. Then the front door opened and in walked Arline, daughter 1, from Washington. She missed her sister and when she learned of the visit, here she was!

But her good car was in California with her husband who was on a business combined with back packing trip, so she drove the ancient red Toyota Corolla. It was a basic car to begin with and time has not improved it. But she arrived without any problems. She brought her son Ben, and a friend Doris.

So, we extended the kitchen table into the living space, cooked piles of food and had a great feast.

But Arline, Ben and Doris had to get back to work so she left Sunday afternoon.

A couple of hours later Dea got a text message that they were staying overnight in a town 100 miles down the road. Hmm.

Later texts and conversations, revealed that the tranny had gone out of their car and she was stranded. She got towed back to the closest town (Baker City), and was waiting for her husband and youngest son, who were scheduled to drive through today.

I called: "Is there anything I can do?" "No, all is in control!."

All will end well, (except for the little red car).

homecoming

This weekend is home coming at the small Christian high school we graduated from.

It has been 56 years for me, and several of my old classmates were there. It was good to see them.

One friend asked how I was doing and I replied: "Better than I deserve." In his teasing (he is good at that), he replied: "That would not take much."

And that reminded me of an old joke:

I used to have a inferiority complex, but it turned out it was not a complex.

Meeting old classmates is not always a great joy to me. Most have done better with their lives than i had expected, while I did a less. I am a lot healthier than most of them. Kidney transplant, knees, bypass surgery. I skipped all of those -- so far.

But that is a tentative gift. The gift can be withdrawn at any time.

shakes

Last night we were eating supper.

Miriam looked up and explained to me: "Look at my thumb."

It was shaking in that way that I know too well. Parkinsons and AD are cousins and they often go together. Her father died of Parkinsons and her oldest brother has the disease now.

So it was not with pleasure that I watched that thumb quaver.

"Not another one Lord."

We stopped at a Discovery Center the other day.
This Red Tail Hawk had been wounded and had been rescued by the Center.
IT was a chance to see a live bird up very close.
The camera was my faithful iPhone. That device continues to amaze me.

cancer

One of my closest friends informs me that he has cancer.

The diagnosis is partial. That there is a cancer is not a question, but whether it is aggressive or benign is yet to be determined.

Most cancer is treatable if not totally curable and i am sure he will survive all of this, but that word scares me, as it does the rest of us.

Friend has surgery scheduled in a couple of weeks. Then the extent of the disease and the treatment.

All of this reminds me that I and we are mortal and that our time here is finite at best, and that even good living does not insure us against problems.

My friend is one of the most health conscious people I know. He eats and lives by the health book (and does it quietly). Sometimes all of that is modified by some less than wonderful genetics.

And that one is beyond our control.

home again

We are back in our home in Idaho.

Those of us who grew up and love the deserts are a bit put off by too much rain (more than a few hours at a time). This is spring, and all of that green got that way because of a lot of rain.

It is good, but I am glad to be back in the deserts.

Because I forgot how a debit card can work, we arrived home with 16 miles of fuel left in the tank. Had it been a real emergency, I could have gotten cash for more fuel, but after doing the arithmetic it worked out alright.

Miriam is very content as long as she is with me. That is good -- mostly. Lately she has gotten real chatty, lots of times. We stopped at a "Discovery Center" yesterday, and she peppered the man with the raptor birds with all sorts of questions, on the subject and repeats. He was either a bit hard of hearing, or acted that way and ignored many of her questions. Sometimes at night when we go to bed I say to her: "Time for sleep now Miriam, don't talk."

We saw 3 of 4 daughters, 8 grandkids and an assortment of pet dogs and cats.

It was a good trip, but it is good to be home.