Europe

Most, if not all, of you know one of my sisters and I are going to Europe with our mother. I've been preparing since July but haven't allowed myself to get excited too soon. This time next week, we'll be in the air above the western edge of Europe so I think I can now allow myself to start getting excited.

I've never had a passport so that was first on my "to do" list. Then I had to put "Get certified copy of birth certificate" on the list above "passport". I was getting a little antsy because the passport website said to allow six to eight weeks and I thought I'd need a couple of weeks to get the birth certificate first. It turned out that my certificate only took a little better than a week and the passport came in two weeks and two days after I submitted it at the post office.

Then I needed to arrange care for Richelle since she's homeschooled. I talked with local family and they were willing to pass her around but I didn't like that idea too much because that would be a lot of effort for them. I talked with Kimberly and she was quite happy to have Richelle visit for one of the weeks. They also homeschool so that's works out perfectly. Then a close friend of the family (my bil's sister) offered to take Richelle for the remainder of the time. Things are falling into place so nicely, it's almost scary!

We fly out of Portland to JFK in New York at about 6:30am Pacific time Tuesday, Sept 15th on flight #0744. We leave JFK at about 8pm Eastern time on flight #0098 and arrive in Budapest at about 11am Wednesday Budapest time. If I've done my math right (and I think I have) that means we land in Budapest at 2am Pacific time Wednesday.

We don't have a solid itinerary - or if we do, I'm not aware of it - but we will travel by Eurorail from Budapest to Czech Republic, Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, Denmark, and Sweden. I understand that we'll be passing through France on our way to Belgium.

The big challenge is that we're not checking any luggage so must live out of a carry-on and a large purse for two and a half weeks. I'm glad I've had years of experience in Scouts of only taking what is essential!

I will try to post every day while in Europe and include pictures and will probably post at least once before we leave.

It still seems unreal that I'll be going to Europe but I'm getting excited anyway!

Convention 2009

A couple clips from the memory files of Convention 2009:

Before we left, I was giving orders to Richelle right and left - sometimes not even giving her time to complete one before giving her another. "Did you get your coat?" "Remember to put in the mirror." "I need you to take out the garbage." I didn't even give her much of a chance to swallow lunch and was giving yet another "must do" when she silently pointed to a sticky-tab affixed to her shirt. It read, "Out of Order".

Kimberly came Friday with her girls and I'd saved room on our bench for them. Richelle sat between the girls and Kimberly sat at one end while I sat at the other. Kimberly jotted a note down on her tablet during a meeting and passed it along with her pencil to one of her girls. Kayla wasn't paying attention when she took the tablet and the pencil fell to the floor next to my foot. She glanced at it, read the note, replied with her own pencil, and passed the tablet back to Kimberly. Kimberly motioned that she needed her pencil back and Kayla looked up at me as if to ask if I'd get the pencil off the floor for her.
"I can't reach it," I very quietly whispered. "I'm too fat."
Oh, my! The smothered giggles that exploded from Kayla...! Kimberly looked at her sternly and Kayla frantically signed for the tablet. Kimberly passed it to her, Kayla retrieved the pencil from the floor and, shaking with giggles, wrote what had happened. She had to pause several times to let waves of laughter pass by but when she got the the part "...said she was..." she dropped the pencil into her lap and her face into her hands while the bench vibrated with her quivering.

Lessons on Packing for Airport Security

Cameron went to the east coast in 2005 at age 15 with a large group of Boy Scouts to attend National Jamboree. He was going to be gone for a little more than two weeks and one of the items on the packing list was detergent so they could wash their clothes.

When Nick went in 2001, I could buy pre-measured packets and did so. I looked high and low when Cameron went four years later and couldn't find anything. No problem. I'm resourceful and imaginative. I measured out eight or ten small load's worth of detergent, vacuum-sealed them individually, put them all together into a gallon zip bag, and gave them to Cameron to pack.

A couple of weeks later, we were standing in one of many long lines of uniformed Boy Scouts at the Eugene airport waiting for their luggage to be checked. I'm thinking 'checked' as in 'checked baggage, not carry-on' and it was 'checked' as in the TSA officer having the boys open their bags so he could check the contents. Not a problem. I knew Cameron didn't have anything he wasn't supposed to have.

Cameron's checked bag was a very large duffel stuffed fairly full. He shoved it along with his foot as the line inched closer to the officers. Eventually, he came to the front and the officer asked him to open his bag. Cameron obligingly reached down and, with one smooth, quick motion, zipped it open. The sides of the bag promptly fell wide, revealing a gallon zip bag full of smaller packets containing white granulated stuff lying right on top.

The officer stood there transfixed and I instantly realized what he thought he was seeing. I practically gibbered as I tried to explain what that packet was and offered to open one to prove it. I think I might have even asked Cameron if he had his knife on him to open one.

After a moment, the officer seemed to come to himself and waved away my offers. "You're Boy Scouts," he said. "I trust you."
"Besides, it doesn't look like drugs, really," he added.

Birthday

Today was my birthday and it started out in a unique way by Richelle sitting me into a chair and giving me a hand-lettered breakfast menu complete with appetizer (applesauce), entrées (scrambled eggs with my choice of bacon or sausage and whole wheat or oat bread toast; hot oatmeal; and cold cereal of my choice from Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms, or Honey Crisp Medley), beverages (water, coffee, teas of several varieties, hot chocolate, or milk), and dessert of apple with or without caramel. The menu came complete with prices and a baggie of play money.

She left me to make up my mind and then returned a few minutes later wearing an apron and carrying a small pad of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. She took my order rather professionally, I thought, and went back to the kitchen. A few minutes later she brought me my applesauce and left again. In due course of time, back she came with a plate of Scrambled Egg Supreme with bacon and a slice of oat bread toast and a cup of vanilla chai, all done to perfection. I don't even recall teaching her how to properly scramble eggs or how to fashion and cook a sausage patty (husband of the birthday girl was also waited on) from bulk sausage! There are times I'm convinced that child learns by osmosis.

She came once to ask how everything tasted and if it was to our liking and then returned once more to present the bill...which I paid for with the play money provided.

I made lunch since Mike is on swing shift but at supper time, Richelle led me to the table which had a candle burning in the center and was set with one placing of silverware wrapped up in a napkin and a supper menu. The appetizer was peanut butter and honey on wheat bread toast; entrée was my choice of a Sandwich Slam (whatever I wanted between two pieces of bread), cheese toast, mac 'n' cheese, cheese quesadilla, turkey wrap (turkey slices rolled with sliced cheese), and Bacon a la Cheese (crumbled bacon and grated cheese); drink choices were Mountain Dew, Kool-aid tropical punch, Kool-aid lemon-lime, milk, and Kool-aid orange; dessert was fresh, homemade oatmeal cookies. We don't really consume that much cheese and certainly not that vast amount of Kool-aid but she went with what she could make.

What a hoot! I loved it and am saving those precious menus with the date lightly penciled on the backs. Those meals was her gift to me and a wonderful, thoughtful gift it was. I will always remember it. Such a darling daughter!

The little grand piano at the top of this post was Mike's gift to me. It's a trinket music box that plays "I Just Wanna Be Loved By You." I know each year that I'll get a grand piano figurine of some sort. It's not the piano that's the gift but the reason for it.

You see, years ago when the kids would whine about not having something they wanted, I'd point out that I'd always wanted a baby grand piano but they don't see one in the front room. That was always my standard retort....until Melissa gave me a little grand piano figurine at Christmas in 2000. She was so tickled that the house almost couldn't contain her and when I opened her gift, she squealed, "Now you can't say you don't have a grand piano anymore!"

I received two more from her and Mike has carried on in her memory.

Busy Times

It doesn't seem all that long since I posted about our camping trip but it's been a couple weeks of busy-ness.

The week after camping was day camp for our local Girl Scouts. Richelle was a Program Assistant this year instead of a camper - a mile-stone she's been looking forward to reaching. Program Assistants are Girl Scouts going into seventh grade or older who help the leader give the day camp program to the younger girls. Richelle's goal was to give the younger girls the same wonderful experience she had. She was a splendid PA, working hard and never complaining even though it was very hot and the girls were demanding.

Our day camp is a week long outdoor event located on a private semi-developed park area. There is a large concrete pavilion, flush toilets, running water, picnic tables, and a fire ring. I say semi-developed because the road is gravel and the lawn is mowed down native grasses and it isn't well-watered. There's also poison oak around the edges and little green frogs in the bathrooms.

The temperatures ranged from 103 up to 108 that week. I made it clear to the leaders and PAs that I wanted everyone drinking water like little fishes and I wanted everyone hosed down four or five times each seven-hour day. I wasn't the first-aider -my job was to crack the whip over the heads of the PAs- but I didn't want any girls not having fun because she was ill with heat exhaustion. So I told my PAs that it was their job to keep the girls drinking water and getting wet. They had no problem spraying the little urchins with water and making them shriek. And the little urchins had no problem shrieking for more water. All together, great fun was had by all. I didn't see any girl dodging the water. Instead, I saw girls standing in front of the hose, water coming down their faces in sheets, shoes squidgiting, yelling that they weren't wet enough. Not one girl came to the first-aider for heat-related problems.


Last week was the local fair. I posted earlier about Richelle's entries so won't repeat except to say that her Lego house ended up with a garden roof instead of having an attic full of attic-y stuff.

The judging for her category (Science, Electronics, and Technology) was on Monday before fair so her jitters were over with early and she could enjoy things. We attended every day because the 4-H SET program is fairly new to this area and we wanted to give as much exposure as possible to the public. With that in mind, we gave demonstrations for two hours each afternoon and allowed any youth who wanted to program a robot and run them. We especially wanted Richelle and her female club member there to help attract girls who were interested. Legos and robots still seem to be a boys domain and it was good to have the girls there demonstrating, tutoring, and being knowledgeable.

I didn't take pictures of her house and my camera is acting up right now (I got some pictures of what could be ghosts but is really the light coming in the sliding door between the curtains) but here is a picture of her robot.


This is a Butler Bot and his name is (appropriately) Jeeves. He was designed to carry a plate of goodies to a guest in their room. The basic bot with the motors, wheels, and 'brain' placement was put together from a diagram. The rack to hold the plate and the touch sensor placement was Richelle's own construction. She wrote the program and built in a delay so the robot wouldn't move until the plate was loaded on. All of the motors the club had were being used on other kids' projects so she didn't have a third one to allow Jeeves to knock on the door. Instead, she programmed him to say, "Good morning" repeatedly until the plate was removed. He says a quick, "Thank you" and returns to base. Then it is all done again for room #2. Jeeves has a bit of an English accent and it's the cutest thing to watch.

All her entries got blue ribbons meaning they exceeded expectations for her category. All her entries were also selected for state fair and her robot got champion and reserve grand champion. She did well.

State fair runs from August 25th to September 5th. I'm curious how well her robot will do against the best in the state.

Silver Creek Camping Trip

Mike, Richelle and I went camping this past week. I love camping, especially when we go somewhere new.

This time, we went to an itty-bitty campground so small, so out-of-the-way that there's no fee. There's no water or garbage service, either, but it does have two vault toilets. All that didn't matter to us because we brought Mike's parents' trailer.

There's a small town on highway 31 in eastern Oregon called Silver Lake. It's more a marsh but "lake" sounds nicer. South of Silver Lake is Thompson Reservoir. A little north and west of there is a tiny marsh named Silver Creek Marsh and this campground is on the north edge where West Silver Creek flows out. Only highways 27, 28, and 31 are paved. All other roads are gravel, cinder, or dirt. The pick-up was filthy by the time we left for home.


Just to the right of the Ponderosas is a stump with a log leaning against it that looks like a small animal peeking over. On the other side, there's another log with a lot of branches that makes it look like a giant centipede sneaking up on the peering rodent.
A pretty good-sized fire swept through here a few years ago. The brush has come back well but there's lots of snags among the trees that survived.


There were two other trailers in the campground but we parked far enough away that we couldn't see or hear them. Instead, we saw and heard pine squirrels, wind in the Ponderosa tree tops, the cold, chuckling creek, the whine of mosquitoes, pine cones dropping with a soft 'thunk', blue jays arguing, the scream of red-tailed hawks, and the frequent slap of someone smacking a mosquito or biting fly.


Our peaceful camp site.

The first evening, Mike took us hunting for what I've heard called sage rats, prairie pups, and squeakers. They are grey-brown rodents about 8-10 inches long with a short, furry tail and they burrow around in fields. Farmers welcome them with the same enthusiasm that gardeners welcome moles and gophers.


Mike brought his .22 and .17 rifles and he and Richelle did most of the hunting. Richelle preferred the .22 because it didn't have the weight of a scope. Mike preferred the .17 because it has a scope and he's 50 years old. Even without using the scope, they both saw rats that I couldn't. A lot of it is because I've never hunted (you can't count the one feral cat I took care of) and my eyes aren't trained for it.


Mike: "Richelle...see that tall tree? Right down in front of it is a clump of sage. Look just a little to the left of there. Do you see him?"
Richelle: "Yeah, I see him!"
Mike: "Shoot him."
Me: "Where are those binocs?"


Richelle nailed the first one she shot at. She stooped over it, gloating, and then said wistfully, "I wish I could take it home with me."
"How about I take a picture instead?" I suggested.
She took a couple more pictures of the up-close and gruesome kind but I'll spare you the sight.


This is a view of Sycan Marsh from the east. I climbed part way up a big pile of rocks to get this picture. I only climbed part way because I started hearing rattlesnakes ahead of me and I have a policy of giving rattlers all the space they want.

These next two pics are taken from the top of Winter Rim at Freemont view point east of Thompson Reservoir. There used to be a no-longer-in-use fire look out up here that the Forest Service would rent out at $20/night but it burned down in the fire I mentioned earlier.


To get a good idea of distance, you really need to click on the picture above and see the buildings located just left of center.


We're looking down on Summer Lake. The blue is the present size of the lake, the white is alkali and shows the size of the lake at its fullest. It's a very long lake but quite shallow so it shrinks and swells with the seasons.


Fishing. The creek is through the brush...I think they're some kind of willow. The creek isn't very wide and not more than a couple of feet deep but it moves pretty quickly and is refreshingly cold.


We didn't keep any fish we caught. Richelle is a true fisherman. She caught a little 8-incher and by the time we were talking the day over at supper time, it'd grown to almost thirteen inches.

We used worms. I HATE fishing with worms. You have to pinch off the amount you need to begin with and then they wriggle and squirm, shorten up and stretch out while you're trying to impale them on the hook. My "ick" factor is set pretty high but putting worms on hooks comes really close to tripping it.


Hager Mountain has a fire control look-out on its peak and there are roads with signs showing the way. After driving about four miles on cinder roads, we came to a locked gate with a sign "Authorized Personnel Only". We were only about a mile from the top. We found a spot where we could see out but it wasn't as spectacular as what we would have seen from the look-out. We were facing roughly northeast with -is it Grassy Butte?- in the distance. Highway 31 runs along the base of it.

Beautiful country and wonderful times make for good, lasting memories.

How Not to Swing a Hammer

Mike is building a deck for his brother and one of the things needing to be done was to set paving stones where the steps come down. To do that without renting a packer for just a dozen stones, Mike would set one where he wanted it, hold a block of wood on top of it, and then pound the wood with a hand-held 3-pound sledge hammer with all his might.

He was setting the last stone and didn't notice that he'd shifted his hold on the block of wood from hanging onto the sides to holding it down with his thumb on top.

You can follow the natural progression that makes such good blogging material and disgusting pictures. He said it was fortunate that he'd already had one set of stairs in place or he may not have made it into the house. He did make it in, stretched out on the couch, and refused to let anyone come anywhere near except his mom to give him four Advil and a glass of water.

He came home about an hour later and I alternated Tylenol and Advil every two hours until late that night when it started bleeding and relieved the pressure.


He so thoroughly exploded every capillary in his thumb that it's a blackish color, still bleeding nearly twenty-four hours later, and the thumbnail is pretty much separated from the bed.

I was telling a teenage friend of Cameron's what had happened and remarked that this will be about the fifth or sixth time he's lost that thumbnail with all the carpentry work he's done. This Wise Guy, with a wicked gleam in his eye and grin on his face softly commented, "Must not have been all that good a carpenter..."