Vacation Pt 1 - Oh the Panic & The Pictures

The joys of vacation,

1) I started out with a panic attack that I wouldn't get to Ducky's 40th class reunion on time. Work was challenging to say the least. I tell people that radio stops for no one, yes I work all three-day-weekends, yes I work Christmas morning, and yes, I voice track Thanksgiving afternoon. This causes a bit of tension but I remind Ducky that I was in radio when he married me, he knew what he was getting. So Friday we have not one, not two, but four events happening at the station.

A) The wrap up to the first of two major summer promotions - The Summer Entertainment Giveaway. A program where we give away thousands of dollars in concert tickets and admission passes. This final drawing means giving away twenty packets, calling the winners, making out the envelops, and mailing a portion of them now.

B) A live remote from the Florence Relay for Life (I worked the board, the news guy did the remote - while I made all those phone calls and did the envelops.)

C) A synchronized fireworks presentation with the Three Rivers Casino, they set off the fireworks, they choose the music, we make sure the music plays as planned. This folks is never an easy task regardless of how easy it should be.

D) The final production and run up for this Friday's Hot 100 Auction. - now you're saying it's this coming Friday what's the deal? 1) I had three small ads to design and place in the paper, (2 ready the huge ad for the paper for next Wednesday (yes tomorrow next Wednesday (as in write up, edit, and all the other stuff that goes with it 3) Place all materials on the website 4) make copies of everything 5) Design and print up gift certificates for all the sales people's items.

Then make it to Ducky's class reunion - 60 miles away - on time. We had a great time, this is the first class reunion he has been to, since we've been together.
I finally got to put face and name to the stories and people I've heard about for the last twenty years. It was awesome.

For my girls let me say that the man to the right is the dad (Rick) in the refridgerator family - Mom (Marla) was taking the picture. The lady to the left of me is Connie, the girl who just about single handedly got Ducky through high school (he denies this, I know it's the truth.) A joyous time was had by all until the end of the evening when we learned one of the girls who'd not made it to the reunion that night had been found unconcious by her sister and rushed to the hospital. The next morning we were told she'd passed away. She'd been suffering from childhood diabetes.

Day One of my vacation - no pictures, I spent six hours at work finishing up what I didn't on Friday for the Hot 100 Auction. Now before you say anything bad, I did get to accomplish something I'd set as a vacation goal. I slept in until almost ten. No, do not bring up the fact that I'd been up until after midnight.

Day Two - no pictures - despite it being a vacation day, I woke up at 5am - who in their right mind wakes at 5am on a vacation day that is not filled with things that need an early rise? Who? Me apparently and it sucked. I drug my ass out of bed at 6, made fresh coffee (because Ducky drags his ass out of bed at 2 and makes coffee which he leaves until he gets back up at whenever. He is a sick sick man) We spent a portion of the morning at my mom's as Ducky mowed her lawns, Mom and I chatted and I was hit with the realization that My Mom (the lady who taught me to be a good steward of the earth - leave things better than the way you found them, don't litter, and all that stuff) doesn't believe there is "Climate Change". No she believes it is natural cycles (let's ignor the brown haze that gunks up the air from LA to beyond Phoenix. That polar ice caps are melting, and polar bears drowning. That Glaciers are melting at an alarming rate to never reappear in our life time.) The remainder of the day was spent wishing I'd been able to sleep past 5am. And answering a billion calls from the Yankee who was having problems editing a show for a client, which eventually drug me down to work for an hour.

Day Three of my Vacation - he comes the pictures. Burp had a mini swim meet. Now you have to understand, he's not on a swim team, he's in pre-team. The next step if I understand is Novice where they learn actual competition style, right now he's learning technique and building endurance. Psam and Burp knew I was coming, but were suprise to be greeted at Willamalane by Ducky, Miseray (who for getting married on Friday was looking rather Zen-like) and the Brit. I got lost. Now who gets lost in Springfield? Me apparently. The meet is done in heats of three or four per event. Each heat awards a blue (1st), red (2nd), and white (3) ribbon. With no apparent regard for starting at the actual start of the heat, with no real focus on the finish line until say it's ten feet away (Burp is too busy paying attention to where everyone else is), and finally to turning at the end of the lane, pausing, then swimming some more
- Burp came way with several first place finishes and two seconds.

One of the boys in Burp's group - Shane - was amazing to watch, I'm not sure how long he's been swimming, much longer than Burp, but he had style, power, and grace for such a young swimmer. A pure joy to watch, I can't wait until Burp swim's like that. Burp is already showing ability, but it's far from being as in tune as Shane, he'll get there if he doesnt' lose interest and he has the right mother to push him. His heat times already show improvement:

Race.....................Last Meet...This Meet
25 Meter Freestyle......28.91.......26.67
25 Meter Backstroke....35.56.......30.06
25 Meter Breaststroke..42.46.......39.4

50 Meter Freestroke...1:08.47......56.65
50 Meter Backstroke...1:25.42....1:08:00
50 Meter Breaststroke.1:32.16....1:24:00

100 Meter Freestroke..2:31.19....2:07:00
100 Meter Backstroke..2:56.95....XXX (didn't race)

Day four of my vacation began with this blog, I hope there is peace, harmony and some beading in this day somewhere. Until then, Ciao, bona futuna.

Sith,
Cele

Staycation Part 1

"Some” people have a problem with “staycations” not me. Ducky and I take a staycation every two or three years. Yes, we realize it’s not the same as vacation, but it gives us the time to do things that don’t get done on those short two day weekends and please remember I’m in radio, there in no such thing as a three day weekend. Nada.

Saturday began with Oregon’s blowout over Portland State, which had followed last weekend’s blowout of Tennessee, preceding a tremendous football season kick off with a blowout over New Mexico. I do not enjoy blowouts; I can’t believe that any school would pay to have their players slaughtered on the gridiron. I mean really, is the money that worth it? I remember when the Ducks were the blowoutees and not the blowouters – it wasn’t fun, I hated people putting down my Ducks and those were just the fans. So Saturday afternoon when the September rains were giving Ducky something to bitch about (my lawn is now green and I apparently don’t water enough during the summer despite what the water bills says) Burp, Ducky, and I tailgated in the living room and watched a blowout.

Since Ducky and I have been together he’s said he use to fish, misses fishing, wants to fish again. So for our anniversary I did what any well attending spouse does, listen to eighteen years of wishing and made it so. I bought him a fishing pole, tackle box filled with an assortment of hooks, sinkers, spinners, sesame honey bars, pliers, and the three hottest lures on the Siuslaw. I also got him a reel and 20 pound test (yes, I realize my mistake… now.) There they sat, I asked if he’d wound the test on the reel, and it sat. Finally I did it myself, promised some weekend fishing with Burp and last Sunday morning, off we went.

It had finally stopped raining as we drove to Munsel Lake, the location sucked. We drove further north (a whole three miles from home) to Sutton lake and walked down to the dock. After setting up Burp’s pole we watched him sadly cast his line three feet from the dock. Ducky demonstrated a cast or two, talked Burp through it and we watched as each cast improved. Then I asked if I could try. I think I’m hooked. Then the rain began, kind of light Burp kept casting. A little more rain, Ducky would cast. I think I’m hooked. Ducky wants to fish the Siuslaw, Salmon are beginning to run.

Last night we went to the final concert of the season at the Cuthbert. I had scored tickets through work, because it’s on a Tuesday night and I don’t take days off from work for anything…okay I did for cancer, but I mean the other crap, I took a staycation. We met Pinecone and the Tooth and Cap guy at the concert, my friend Sue was a few blankets down and the night rocked. The sky was cloudy but rain held off as night fell Heart took the stage and it was magic. Short, but all the same magic. I’d show you a picture, but it is locked in side my phone, darn I don’t have texting ergo I can’t send my pictures to myself. Bummer dude.

Today it was cutting brush at my moms… tomorrow breakfast.

The staycation continues…

Sith,
Cele

Vacation - well the late middle part - III?

I am some how falling behind on my vacation post. Ergo the vacation that keeps on giving...beyond the sinus thingie I came home with. On Wednesday morning, not as early as we'd have liked, we got up, bought coffee and a bran muffin and again headed east. Dawn had come and gone, the morning was beautiful and the drive not as long as the day before.

I'd been to Zion Canyon when I was a little girl. My cousin and his wife had gone the week before. Armed with the appropriate footwear they did some hiking, saw a great big rattle snake, and that kept me from wandering too far off the parking lot pavement.

Knowing that Zion is nothing like the Grand Canyon, but holds it's own beauty...and not as long the drive, I thought Ducky would like it. We paid our $25 entrance fee at the park gate. Drove into the park on a little winding road that showed us little.

Little that is, until we rounded a corner and the three buttes came into view. My concerns dissolved as Ducky let out as wonderful, "Oh, wow!"

The sky was a beautiful blue, the red rim rock amazing. I kept thinking that it didn't look quite like I'd remembered (or my mom's pictures bring to mind) I was thinking I'd been wrong and it was Bryce Canyon I was remembering. That was until we got back to the park gift shop to discover picture that look like the Zion Canyon I rember. I'd not been aware that there was two different entrances to Zion National Park.

The entire time I kept wondering how they got the name of Kolob Canyon? So I googled. Now I know more about something I never wanted to know about. It always comes down to Joseph Smith doesn't it? I'm thinking the three buttes must have been a three head phalic thingie with him. Delusional dreams.

I was especially taken with the evidence of erosion slowly digging it's new cracks, fissues, and crevases for the next millienum.

I even had Ducky take my picture, and while it shows exactly how fat I am, I'm sharing. My God those are massive breastesies. I need to diet again.

Sith,

Cele

Vacation Part II, the Roll That Got Away

Everyone who takes rolls of film has a story about the one that got away; yes, often confused with the fish story. This is one of those stories…

When I plan a vacation, I plan a pretty full vacation. I mean, who knows when you might get to return? And of course after you’ve spent seven days seeing the sights, won’t it be several years before you go back? After spending two days and nights acquainting ourselves with our hotel, the restaurants there in and about, and with the Fremont Experience Ducky and I spent Monday taking in the sights and sounds of the southern end of the strip time share high pressure sales seminar. Note no commas, that’s how it felt. No I didn’t take pictures…well I did…sort of…but that is for later.

As a child my parents gave us the best of the US that they could. We scoured Route 66, I-80 and the roads in between. I have a freakish memory that can pull out bits and bobs of this event or that dating all the way back to age two and a half. I’m sure part of that is aided by my mom’s photo albums spurring my memories along. Which explains why I can’t remember first grade, I had mumps the day pictures were taken. And maybe I’ll tell that story tomorrow, but the gist is that I don’t remember first grade. Major digression. Knowing that we would be within driving distance of great places I remember from childhood, but Ducky’d never seen, I was primed to play the tour guide.

Monday afternoon I rented a car for three days. Tuesday morning, way too friggin’ early for vacation, Ducky and I bought coffee and a bran muffin, loaded up the rental, went against what Horace Greeley preached, and headed east. I’d planned three-day trips for our vacation: Hoover Damn, Grand Canyon, and Zion Canyon. Ducky smartly suggested doing the farthest first and the nearest last, so Tuesday we were off through the Nevada high desert into Arizona, into Utah and back into AZ for the North Rim.

After having to make a few stops for Ducky to rest his hip (really it’s walking the kinks out, but well you know) and five and a half hours later I was second guessing my desire to show him the Grand Canyon. He was in pain and fighting off cranky (which is a huge accomplishment) when we arrived in the parking lot of the North Rim Visitors center. One shot and I was already changing my film. We walked along the path getting small glimpses of the rim rock, making me fear the North Rim would not live up to my memories of the South Rim.

Suddenly the area opened up and we were offered endless views of the Grand Canyon. I am always amazed by the grandeur wrought by Mother Nature, an amazement that was renewed by Ducky’s fascination.
Now my husband has a
fear of heights, yes pretty much equaled to my terror of snakes, he’s a bit more emboldened than I am. He walked out on points and let me take his picture. UNFUCKINGHEARDOF!!! Ducky despises having his picture taken. He let me take shots here, there,
and even had a German couple trade cameras and locations with us to get couples shots. I was in seventh heaven.

Half way through I changed film again and loaded roll number four. While my digital was in the rental, I’d only brought my Pentax on our walk. That Tuesday I shot the better part of two rolls of film capturing the vistas of the North Rim, Ducky, and the day.

Only to return home and find, roll number three of seven is nowhere to be found.
Sith,
Cele

Talk Thursday: The Fabric of Connections

For the better part of fifteen years I lived in the same neighborhood. Six kids on my block were in Mrs. Espinosa’s kindergarten class. I remember Michael and I sitting on the flagstone BBQ in my backyard staring at the school on the Mesa waiting for the morning kindergarten to be over so we could go to school. Excitement, I doubt I slept the night before. Our moms walked us – holding hands, envelops with milk money pinned to our shirts down the hill and the four blocks to the school. Five of those six kids graduated in 1974 - together.

Growing up we ran barefoot and wild, roaming our neighborhood from dawn till way past dark during summer playing hide and seek, ditch-it (on bikes), and Red Rover (not on bikes – duh!) There were swim parties at the Taylors and the Meyers, neighborhood sleepovers in my back yard, and when we were older there were parties- birthday, graduation, and finally my going away party.

Several years ago Ducky and I went back to La Mirada, to my old neighborhood. Despite 28 years past some of my old neighbors still lived there. Our names are still etched in the corner piece where Mr. Timmons had cemented because we spun on the street pole so much it wobbled and leaned. All of the olive trees are gone, pink stucco has replaced much of the avocado greens and butter yellows once worn by the track houses and now looking at the three blocks that made up our neighborhood, an area that had seemed so huge to me before, was in truth really quite small.

On September 26th several of us gathered again in Las Vegas for a reunion. It had been in my mind several years to invite all of the kids I grew up with to a gathering of sorts. Ducky and I had flown in just that day. My sister, her husband and their youngest son (he’s 28) had been in Vegas since Thursday, I was looking forward to hooking up with them for margaritas after dinner that night.

Never close to my cousins, I was envious of friends who had close relationships with their. I had none of my own to claim visual ownership to. So Judy and I became cousins. To this day she is my cousin, Psam calls her Aunt Judy, and despite time and distance we have remained close. Judy brought Lori with her for a long weekend. It was Judy that Ducky and I first saw as we checked in.

Despite having just said I had no cousins to be friends with, that isn’t entirely true. I have one cousin who is my age. Lynnie Furby. He lives in Ohio. See there’s the distance factor. But for one year Lynnie lived with us, went to seventh grade with me, made friends with my friends and then he moved back to Ohio at the end of school in 1970. Yes, it has been forty years since I’ve seen him, or really had much contact with him. Seeing him made me feel the loss again, while regaining him and his wife. I won’t lose them again.

Michael showed up looking like his dad. We’d played doctor together when we must have been four or so, I wonder if he remembers? I’m sure he remembers I broke is race car set in a snit when I was about six. Pretty bratty of me, I’ve often contemplated sending him a new one out of the blue.

Pammy was the sheltered kid in the neighborhood, but I really liked her. I have three songs that inevitably bring her to mind so I think of her often. She brought her husband and daughter along for the trip. Very down to earth, smiling people.

Growing up there were six Morin kids: Paul (Gene), Mike, Dale, Vicki, Julie, Janice. Sadly Paul passed of a heart attach July 29th. Mike, Dale, and Janice all showed up in Vegas bringing spouses and grown children.

Cheryl lived on the fringes of our neighborhood, but she and her brother Rod were always around. Her dad having passed just two weeks before it had been questionable if she’d come – but she did.

Eleven and company gathered three weeks ago in Vegas and had dinner, relived moments of our past, but more importantly we caught up on the people who’d been important to us on the road to becoming who we are today. They are my past, a part of my present, and thankful a part of my future.

Sadly my pictures did not come out as well as I’d have liked.

Sith,
Cele

Sin City

It is now a warm memory, except for the blister remnants, a lost roll of film, and grainy photos. I'm kind of bummed, I may shoot on Kodak film but the processor does a crappy job with their CD's. The hard pictures have great clarity and color, the disc, well you can see below the pictures are grainy. And I cleaned them up some. I'm bummed.
It had been a good forty years since I'd been to Vegas. It was worth the wait. And while you must see the Strip (especially the colors at night) I was much happier on the Fremont Experience.

Thursday night of our trip (yes, I will be giving you our vaction in reverse... sort of) we finally rode the Deuce to from the Golden Nugget to the Strip.

If you've seen anything on TV or in the movies about Vegas you know the shows on the strip are a must. And several of the night time shows in front of the casinos are free. We made sure we got off in front of Treasure Island so we could take in the pirate show.

The show sadly didn't live up to the hype. Definately worth the visit to down town, don't let it be the only thing you see on the strip.

And the foreigners, way rude. I was pushed, bumped, elbowed, and just about butt fucked to the point where I finally walked a step backward to get the guy behind me off my ass. He was literally body pressed to me as we minced our steps away from the viewing docks in front of Treasure Island. I am usually a non aggressive person, but forty five minutes on the strip I'd had my fill.

One Brit Idiot scoffed with down her nose distane, "No wonder they have terrible smog, it's all the firework smoke."
Lady, leave your money and go home.
We walked the short distance down to the Mirage for the Volcano's eruption. The fire action was hot and colorful. And I mean hot, you could have been scorched to cinders at our first two shows.

Sadly I didn't get pictures of the best show on the Strip, the dancing fountains of the Bellagio.

I could have watched all night long. But because I was shooting with my Macro I didn't get a good shot. Next time I go back I will have dinner at the Venetian and watch the dancing waters.

Ducky and I both thought the Bellagio show the best. Our performance was to Elton John's "Your Song" I understand the music changes nightly.

The Bellagio Fountains surpassed the hype.

Because we were staying at the Golden Nugget, the majority of our evenings were spent on the Fremont Experience. Billed as the World's largest television screen we enjoyed most of the hourly performances, but I especially liked Kiss and Queen; Ducky's favorite was Don McLean's American Pie.

Not all the bands were good, but one or two were exceptionally good, drew big crowds, and had people off all ages dancing in the street.

The five dollar margaritas weren't bad, but the seven dollar margaritas were pretty darn good.

I also tried to get a shot of the Golden Nugget's Shark Tank pool, but failed sadly.

We definately will go back, stay at the Golden Nugget and play the penny machines.


Sith,
Cele

T’isn’t The Season

First, my mother’s Maple tree is turning red. Second, the first back to school sales insert arrived in this morning’s Siuslaw News. My head is spinning. Normally this would harbor no ill thoughts for me, except it’s JULY 12th. My lilies haven’t even bloomed. I’ve not had a chance to spring and now Mother Nature and the advertising calendar are stealing summer from me?

Except for a trip to Portland for our oldest daughter’s wedding, our vacation is going to be a stay-cation. The upside is I will get some projects done; the down side is we save gas and airline dollars. Okay, so there is no down side. But school shopping already? Ouch.

I don’t have a school age kid, so I won’t find myself placing extra neon post-its in the shopping basket for my desk. No, cool gel pens; no glittery, ombre’d, character embellished pencils; no psychedelic book covers – bummer days.

Hours can be spent at the nursery pondering which annuals, bulbs, perennials, and bamboo for my yard. Hours can be spent toting pavers from pallets to pick up bed, truck to back yard. Whereas some women can spend hours drooling over shoes, purses, and lipsticks - I will spend life times dreaming at the nursery and on the post-it note aisle (you have noted that at Staples post-its have their own section, right?)

I will lament having to make a choice,”Hot pink or neon green? (When in truth I want them both,) Ah what the heck, they’re just post-it notes. Hearts (rapid head bobbing) or stars? (heavy hmmms,) Ah, what the heck, they’re just post-it notes.”

And the envelope aisle? Have you seen the plastic envelopes with the stringie tie things? I have been doing more and more sales in the last two years. The plastic sheet size envelopes are perfect for the Oregon weather. Bright blues, kiwis, and the little black envelop that is a must for every smart business woman (pearls are optional – ah what the heck, ditch the pearls, this is Oregon.) My clients must like them too, because I never get them back.

Kewl, I’ll buy more.

Now hearts or stars?

I Left My Thighs In San Francsico – I Know Wishful Thinking

For those you who worried about rain in Frisco may I say, “Jump on in the sunshine’s great, just wear some good SPF’s.”

I journeyed into Frisco to revisit the sights just before mid day. If I could have stopped I would have in the middle of the 680 there is an awesome view of San Francisco surrounded by the bay that is stunning. But I’m a thinking the commuters buzzing at 75mph around me probably would have be a bit ticked at my inaction. The sky wasn’t smog free but it was blue, the sun was sparkling off the bay and the day was an awesome 77.

I drove Mission street in search of a parking garage, and was lucky to find (I think) the one that Sid had mentioned at Seventh and Mission. Then I trekked it back down the hill to the Yerba Buena Gardens. A very lovely green spot in the heart of downtown Frisco across Mission from the Moscone Center.

The park was filled with every shape of person, a bevy of birds, and flowers galore. I tend to be one of those people who stops to ooh, ahh, and snaps a picture of each pretty flower that catches my eye. And if flowers aren’t available, then birds will do. Today it was Cowbirds, Starlings, and Gulls in abundance in the gardens, totally undaunted by the sunbathers, lunchers, and snoozers.

I was chugging my ass back up Mission Street when I realized I really should have parked much closer. Despite having only a Mocha and no lunch, I’m pretty certain my chubby hips are just were they were when I woke up this morning. They just have a bit more endurance now, damn there are a lot of stairs.

Picking a street I drove east and somehow through a series of random turns I ended up at the top of Lombard Street. I have no clue how, in fact it was the view of Alcatraz I was after. Cresting a hill I was stunned by the beautiful, reach right out and touch it, view. It was only after I found a place to park to take some photos did I realize I was at Lombard Street. The view, wonderful.




Then it was back down to the Embarcadero in search of a Baseball Cap for Ducky’s collection. Oh, mi gawd the guy has dozens. How we didn’t get one from Frisco the last time we were there is beyond me, but he’s got one now. I also bought his birthday present, a signed and frame Whitey Ford photo. Whitey Ford being his favorite (back when) player.

Now I am just exhausted, well you be sunshine fresh after getting lost in Oakland. Don’t ask. I’m off for pizza.

Sith,
Cele