hay fever

I inherited a few things from my mother.

Each spring I am especially aware of one. We used to call it “hay fever”, which sounds like something from the African jungles.

But it wasn't. I think “allergies” is what most call it now. Mom's allergies were pretty well developed. Each spring she had this bout of blow and sneeze and trudge. It was long before any affective antihistamine and mom just toughed it through.

I did pretty well for some years, but when we went to Texas I discovered that anything I could be allergic to grew in abundance around there. There was a tree that had bad pollen, that affected a lot of Texans, but it grew a couple hundred miles north in Oklahoma or Kansas, but those nice people shared it with us.

Each spring I was miserable.

There were by then, two types of antihistamines. One was very effective, but it would make you very sleepy. “Do not take this while operating machines,” the labels darkly warned, and ther was the “non-drowsy” formulas, but they did not work very well.

So I took the first kind, then tanked up on caffein to function. I was teaching two classes and was a full time graduate student as well. It was a wild ride each spring.

Then the drug genii came out with Claratin and my whole world changed. I wrangled a prescription. It worked and I could function with out all of that caffein.

Here in Idaho I get a shot of this allergy each spring. It goes about a month, so I can buy the generic formula to make it through the spring.

We are there right now!

Where did I put that bottle?

As you moved the colors on this paint job moved too.
Massively spendy I'd guess.
The car was an early '50's Plymouth, something you don't see in car shows too often.
Old cars are great to look at, but I don't have a lot of good memories of my cars of that vintage.

reconnect

I live a rather alone life.

Not really lonely, as long as I have my Miriam's mind even a bit, but largely alone.

In my life I have not had a great number of really close friends, but neither have most of my contemporaries. I am not sure Miriam has had any other than me.

The longest close friendship has been with Gene. We were freshmen in high school and in the 55 years since we graduated from high school, we have kept a conversion going. Mostly.

We have never lived in the same time zone during those years. Gene is a genuine scientist and teacher. I am an artist and doer (maybe).

We will have a rabid conversation for a few years and it tapers off and we are out of touch for a while, then it begins again with great intensity. We have been out of touch now for some years now. When we met at our 50th anniversary of graduating from high school Gene introduced me to his new wife and we visited a few minutes.

He was moving and did not have an address and neither of us followed up.

Then this week I got an email saying that a Gene had asked to be my friend on Facebook. I am on Facebook, but I am not very into it, I don't follow it too closely.


He was anxious to reconnect. He lives in Wisconsin now. He and his wife have been caring for her aging parents. Mom is gone now, but at 93 Dad keeps plugging along.

Gene was a college Biology professor for most of his life, so talking to him is like having a genial conversation with the wizened Professor.

We don't have to agree on much of anything. We just throw ideas back and forth, sometimes in very rapid form. It is that exchange of ideas and thoughts that has kept this conversation going.

Glad we are back in touch old friend.

Controlled fire!
This is history. Matt had his 14th birthday a few weeks ago.

fire

Last week my neighbor had a noisy party.

The neighbor has a fire pit in his rather small back yard and he had a good sized fire going.

The noisemakers were standing around the fire talking – a bit loudly perhaps.

The noise was not a serious impediment to the reading I was doing, but it did bother me a bit. On the other hand, we live just a ways from the high school football field and some noise could be coming from that direction.

So I slipped on some shoes and went outside to check out the source.

First thing I noticed was a figure coming toward me. In the dark I could not see who it was so I spoke to the person. It was Juan my across the street neighbor.

“Dave, your house is on fire.”

I looked past Juan to his house across the street. Juan's wife Sylvia was standing on their front porch with a phone to her ear.

From Juan and Sylvia's front window the fire pit is in direct line with the back of my house and like good neighbors, they were on the alert.

Juan had not even bothered to put his shoes on, but had come running across the street in his stocking feet.

He called across the street to Sylvia, who terminated he call to the 911 operator.

The neighbor's fire does bother me. It is not too far from a cedar fence which is a few feet from a cedar shaked wall on my house. If things got out of control, it could get nasty.

On the other hand the owner (yet another Dave in my life) was reasonably careful.

I thanked Juan for his concern. When Dave had begun the big fire thing I decided not to hassel him with the legals of it all.

My nutty solution was to make sure I kept my fire insurance policy up to date.

starting fires

I start a good number of fires each year.

OK, we refer to them as “build”, as in “I built a fire.” Wonder where that got started!

Therefore, I go through a good number of matches. In the shop I use a propane torch to start the fire, but in the house and camping I use old fashioned matches.

When I ran out a few years ago, I just bought a big box at our usual grocery outlet. The box was a bit smaller, and the color did not look quite right, but I bought them.

Got home and they were awful. Didn't light well. Were just plain wrong. Checked. “Made in China.”

The chinese may make good stuff (for some reason they seem to send us the other stuff, mostly), but these matches were bad.

So I did some looking. Each store had the same brand, but I kept looking. Finally a store clear across town carried the real old fashioned “made in USA” – kitchen – strike any where – matches. I ran into the manager of the store and thanked him and told him to keep up the work.

It is time to go march shopping again. I know where I'll go.


Miriam is healthy and strong. She can't remember, but otherwise she is remarkably healthy.

She often brings in the firewood. It is good for her.

This spring I cut quite a bit of wood out of our apple trees. I cut the bigger pieces into stove size and stacked them in the wood shed.

Of course, she saw that nice new wood and brought it in the house. It is green and wet and won't burn well, so I took it back. Each day she brings in a few pieces and each day I take the back.

patient?

Last week I needed to put gas in the pickup.

I went to my usual gas up spot (close and less expensive than others – none are cheap).

Put my new bank card in the slot. “We don't know who the dickens you are.”

I put it in again, and a similar message.

So I put the card away and drove off.

Later I went online and looked at my bank account. Hmm. A charge of $14.47 for gas. But I did not get any gas there. I went to the Chevron station down the road.

Slowly it dawned on me.

My card was not refused the second time. I left it just before it said: “Select your poison and proceed.” The next customer came along with a small car (It could have been a thirsty pickup, with a huge tank). I can hardly blame them for accepting my gift!

I noted in my accounting record that it was a “donation.”

I'll be more careful next time.

I am really impressed by old cars that have been rebuilt, but still have some basis for being "useful."
Lots of show cars are all show and no go.
This one looks like it might be useful, maybe.

challenges

I was watching the Para Olympics last night.

Boy do those guys and gals go. Some had only one leg, some no feet, but they skied or rode on mono skis. They did not go as fast as the others, but they went quicker than any of us would.

The event that really caught my attention was the one for the visually impaired. I had never even thought of such an idea, living a protected life, like I do.

Each competitor had a “guide” that went with them. Since this was a slalom course, they could not be beside them, but went slightly ahead. The guide shouted instructions as they went: “straight”; “left”. The whole thing went wonderfully well. One competitor misjudged the space to stop and bumped into the well padded fence.

One team (and they really were a team) was a husband and wife. Talk about trust. The guy was the guide. He went first, shouted instructions and kept an eye over his shoulder. Somehow the clock time did not matter too much.

When the race was run they all smiled and waved.

Here are people who could easily do something else and no one would argue with them, but they didn't.

I was impressed with them and depressed with some of the excuses I hear (and make).

potatoes and cake

My church group has a potluck this weekend.

We try to do one every month. It keeps us in touch with each other and give us a non-church time to visit and be together.

My usual food item is Scalloped Potatoes. I have been using raw potatoes, but it tends to turn dark when cooked, and last time, even though it was in the oven for an hour, the potatoes were not cooked through.

So this time I precooked the potatoes in my slow cooker. The results are different enough to think it was a different dish. I think I like the raw potato system better, and if I were to wash the potato slices after I cut them, I think that might help with the discoloring.

When we go camping my big desert item is pineapple upside down cake. I make it in my cast iron dutch oven, sometimes heated with charcoal, sometimes in the campfire, and a few times in a borrowed RV oven!

This time my motive was to remind all that camping season is coming on fast and that I intend to go camping a lot this year and that they are welcome to join me! After the meal there were two pieces left.

As I said earlier, my friends that camp are in the RV mode, some of the are very nice.

Miriam and I are in a time warp. We sleep in a trailer that is basically unchanged since the 40's. I use old fashioned Coleman liquid stoves and lantern and pull it all with an 18 year old car.

What my system lacks in luxury it makes up in simplicity.

I can live with that.

My son in law called yesterday to tell me that they we cutting these old giants up for scrap.
I suppose that is the thing to do, they are not very useful.
But, we tend to cut up anything we don't think is "useful."
Now I am glad I took time to photograph these relics of an earlier age.