One week you’re prepping for vacation. The week after, you’re wondering where the hell the time went. So it goes. The letter here was the final get-ready-to-rumble note to Ellen and Reid as preparations finalized for the ride along the Washington-Oregon coast. More copy and pics next week.
July 8, 2013
Ellen/Reid: It doesn’t look as if much has changed up in Cass Lake; people still having fun in and around the water and the mosquitoes don’t seem to have abated much. Emma did look so happy to be up there. But that picture of the spider on the door frame – a wolf spider, as near as can be determined – was something else. That was a thing of monster movies. It has to be unbelievably voracious. You don’t get that hideously huge by nibbling on gnats.
Reid, I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk to you on your birthday. Minnesota isn’t such a bad place to be on the 4th, and the 5th will always be tied to that holiday. Here’s a little something for you to either semi-splurge on yourself or take Liz to a nice dinner. You have to tell me how you and Tim did on the rivers. How come we never trout fished up there?
There was a big sigh of relief around here on Monday. Oddly, I wasn’t sweating that as much as the test itself. No other follow ups, no checkups, nothing else. I do go to the dermatologist on Thursday for a routine exam. I’m only out in the sun one day of the week, so that sun exposure has gone way down although it’s the sunburn of 30-40 years ago that really matters. I thought about playing golf yesterday but a nap called just in the nick of time and the couch was a good spot to practice my zzzzz’s. Baked some of those hearty round loaves after that, and already one of them is consumed, and it wasn’t by Felicia.
Tried to test pack the bike bag yesterday. It fits over the sissy bar and it is very clear that we’ll need some added roomage because even with a modest amount of clothing (two changes each) we’ll be filled to the gills. We’re taking our helmets, rain suits and leathers and those eat up huge chunks of space. The temps have been okay in Seattle and Inland, but along the coast the mornings are in the 50s, which makes it cool, but not totally uncomfortable, to ride. If we run into any damp weather, we’re cooked. But we have decided it will be what it will be and we will tough it out. Cousin Tom from Salem, OR called yesterday and we’re still trying to figure out our exact itinerary and when we can see Tom, aunt Mary and maybe get over to Bend, OR to see Sue and Rand Hammond. An acquaintance from church is out there right now and has posted pics on FB which gives us somewhat of an idea about what to expect. Betsy and Bob are giving us a ride to the airport very early on Saturday. I’ll text you en route.
The vipers are now out and about. Saw a couple of medium sized rattlesnakes or cottonmouths that met an untimely fate on the roads during my early morning walk yesterday which means the venomous ones are on the move. They are pretty to look at on your own terms. It’s enough to stop me from poking around in the weeds for golf balls. Nah. If I could just keep the ball in the fairway instead of the junk I wouldn’t have to look for balls. My pastor friend John is now the owner of the Ping irons that I’d given to your grandfather. He took them to a golf shop for a little tweaking and he’s anxious to play. That’s the highest and best use for those clubs. Your grandfather would have endorsed that gift.
Had honest-to-God real tomatoes this weekend. They actually tasted like tomatoes instead of those pulpy, chemically induced red ones at the store. Made for one (two, actually) fine BLTs on a Sunday. Can’t beat that, especially with a cold one. Oh, yeah.