August 11, 2008

Monday

LEARNING

We were up at eight, practically the middle of the night.

The coffee maker which had been loaded and programmed, last night, went off at a quarter to eight so Onie’s eyes were a bit wider than mine when we got out of bed.  More alert then I Onie made the tea.

We sat down with our hot drinks, sipping them and waiting for them to take effect and bring us fully awake.

When our eyes were functioning normally we fixed ourselves some cereal topped with banana.

At nine ten we took the wash and headed off to the laundry.

Once the laundry was being agitated by the machines the writer headed off to meet Sidney at Lee and Barb’s trailer.  Business has prevented them from coming back so they are unable to winterize their rig.  Sidney volunteered himself and me to do the job.  It will be a first for me, a real learning experience, as winterizing the motor home means pulling it into the garage, plugging in the shore electric power and setting the furnaces at fifty.  

The first thing we did was place all the items that were subject to freezing, in a basket, and take it to the basement of the lodge.  Later we would put the items in Lee’s freezer, for storage.  The freezer isn’t plugged in, and won’t be, but since the basement is heated the items will be safe.

Next the water heater was drained and then we attached an adapter to the water system, opened the taps in the trailer and blew out the lines.

While we were blowing out the lines my phone rang.  It was a fellow calling about a fifth wheel trailer he had for sale.  I had asked Sidney to go with me to look at it, later in the day but now the fellow said something had come up and we needed to come now if we were to see the unit today.  We dropped what we were doing and headed off to see the fifth wheel.

Now Onie and I really enjoy our coach and the lifestyle we are able to enjoy with it.  We love traveling like turtles, slow and with our roof over our head but this summer we had driven over fifty five hundred miles from Coldspring to our summer home place in Sterling. The driver has a light foot and is usually able to manage nine to ten miles to a gallon of fuel.  The best ever was eleven and the worst was seven and a half.  Our lifetime average, according to the on board engine computer is nine point six six, not bad for a rig that weighs twenty six thousand pounds and pulls a car that weighs another three thousand.  Having said all that it doesn’t take a mental giant to figure we burned five hundred fifty gallons of fuel, or more, on the trip up.  Before anyone asks we aren’t even going to discuss the average price of diesel, during the trip, suffice it to say that it put the navigator and driver thinking about alternatives.  One such alternative is to buy a rig, leave it here and fly back and forth.  We are exploring that option, hence the trip to see the fifth wheel.

Well the unit wasn’t as big as the Marlin but then it didn’t have a steering wheel and all those other things that go in the front of a motor home.  In addition it didn’t have clean floors, good maintenance or any evidence of loving care.  Sidney and I thanked the man for his time and left.  We both figured it would take around three thousand dollars in material and parts as well as the better part of a summer to bring it up to our standards and it was priced too high for what it was.   Since we come to fish the unit was quickly put out of mind.

We drove back to camp where we resumed our work on Lee’s trailer.

The two hours we had been gone had continued the learning experience about trailers and fifth wheels and when we arrived back at camp the practical application went on.

We installed a bypass valve next to the water pump, on Lee’s trailer, so we could introduce antifreeze into the system in an efficient manner.  After it was installed and we tried to pump the antifreeze into the unit it was discovered that we had installed it backwards.  This small error caused us to consult the instructions, remove the bypass and reinstall it properly.  We felt sure that had the bypass been engineered properly--engineers please take note--it would have been impossible to install it other than correctly.  We had been made victims of poor engineering and it was not our fault we had failed to read the instructions.  Everyone who is a bonifide blue blooded elitist liberal degenerate snob will agree with this unassailable bit of truth and wisdom and those who don’t are doomed to self reliant responsibility taking conservatism and all the onerous tasks like taking care of oneself that it involves,

Well, we got the bypass installed correctly and pumped a gallon and a half of antifreeze into the pipes before dumping the balance of two gallons into pea traps inside the trailer.

A handle on one leg of the awning unit was worn out.  We replaced it and then rewound the awning itself so it would retract and store properly.  This is not a part of winterizing but part of general maintenance.  Awning handles don’t break every year just prior to winterizing.  

Bringing in slides is part of winterizing and that was done before we disconnected the electricity, shut off the propane and removed the battery.  We were finished.

Events fill our lives, some planned some unplanned but all part of our lives.  The next event of the day was a visit from Bill and Nancy Hager, not planned but still pleasant.  They were on their way back from lunch, at Taco Bell, and saw the work being completed and stopped to inquire about the proceedings.  When the visit was over the writer headed back to the coach to help Onie with the laundry.

Before we headed off to the wash room we had a light lunch of leftovers.

Washing clothes once a week means we accumulate about three loads and the weight is too much for Onie to handle alone.  Carrying part of it to the laundry falls to me.  Once there we put detergent in the washers, start the water, load the washers and then start them.  That is the end of my helping until they are dry and if I am around I help with the folding.  Today while the machines were being loaded Onie brought me a nice hot Chai tea.  Even in the warmth of the laundry the hot tea was welcomed.

While the robots, the washing machines, they really are robots by definition, washed our clothes we went back to the Marlin to finish a crossword.

Onie had been working on Kurt’s trailer, cleaning it and kind of straightening up.  Since we were washing she decided to get the rugs from his rig and wash them.  Now she did that.

Left to my own devices, for a while, the laptop was occupied and a few notes were made and a few comments added to existing notes.

Later we folded our clothes and hung Kurt’s rugs out to finish drying.

With our wash day chores over we headed off to the grate for a little R and R.

Later still we had our supper and watched TV before turning out the lights.

August 12, 2008

Tuesday

ANOTHER DAY ON KATCHEMAK BAY

What is so traumatic about getting up at five A.M?  It seems that the author’s body rebels at moving so early and his mind is almost completely in neutral.  Nevertheless mind and body can be driven to respond, positively, to certain stimuli, such as a forthcoming fishing or hunting expedition.  The author has even been known to rise at such an uncivilized hour for the purpose of getting an early start on a trip but such nonsense is rare.

This morning the stimulus was a pending halibut trip.  It was going to be another day on Katchemak Bay.  At five A.M. he was pulling on his clothes including his Polar Tek top and a hoody.  His breakfast was a quick and light one, water and a peach.

At five thirty he grabbed his rubber boots and back pack, which contained his rain suit and a few snacks, and headed to Kurt’s rig. 

The rest of the group was gathering around the truck, loading their belongings and a cooler or two into the bed.  The writer’s backpack and boots were placed among the jumble of items already there.  In five minutes we closed the tailgate and began the drive to Ninilchik where we would meet our guide and boat.

Kurt drove while Ron rode shotgun.  Ron and Don are Kurt’s friends from Iowa and Ron rode in the back with Sidney and the writer.  A constant chatter from the front and back helped the time pass quickly and we were soon parked waiting for the boat and guide to show up.  The trip had been quick, an hour, and uneventful even though we had seen some moose on the way down.

Mike Garcia, our guide, arrived at seven with his twenty eight foot Alumaweld boat and its twin one fifty four stroke Yamaha’s.

Here at Ninilchik the boarding process is a little different.  Since the boat is launched off the beach by a big tractor that pushes the boat, still on it’s’ trailer, into deep water, it is necessary to board while the boat is on the trailer.  Ladders are placed next to the boat and those wishing to go fishing climb the ladder to board.  We climbed the ladder and once on board secured our gear.

Each of us found a seat as the tractor began towing the trailer and boat down the incline to the water’s edge.  Once on the beach the tractor turned around and began pushing us out into deep water.  As the water rose higher and higher on the six foot tall rear wheels, of the tractor, the boat floated free of the trailer and with both engines in reverse, at slow speed, we backed off the trailer.  As Mike was turning the boat toward the open sea we got our last glimpse of the tractor headed to shore, pulling, a now, empty trailer.

While Katchemak Bay can have, and the author has seen, waves of ten to twelve feet and higher, it has been his experience this year to be blessed with mostly calm seas.  Today was no exception.

With the gray overcast hiding the sun the moderate waves seemed even flatter then they actually were.

The twenty six nautical miles to the place where we would fish took an hour and a bit to cover but we were fishing by nine.

The bite was slow at first, typical, but after a while Kurt had a good bite.  When the fish was landed it proved the validity of our assessment of the bite, it was a ninety pounder, and would prove to be the largest of the day.

With the bite picking up a lot of dog fish, a kind of shark, began being caught.  Usually this is not a good sign and the captain will move to another fishing hole but Mike elected to stay where we were.

Kurt and Captain Mike

Another good sized halibut was boated and some smaller halibut were caught as well.  A few of the larger ones were retained before a large skate was hooked and brought to the boat where it was released.

With the slack tide came a time of no bites and no fish.  Some fishermen took advantage of the respite to grab a snack or just to sit down and rest.  Sidney and the writer eschewed both and stayed at the rail, patiently waiting for the next bite and fish.  This was Sidney’s fourth halibut trip and he had yet to boat a fish.  He was paying his dues and hoping for success.

After a half hour the tide began to run again and with it the bite picked up.  So did the wind, in the opposite direction.  With wind and tide in opposition the seas began to build and we were soon being rocked by three foot swells.  Fortunately no chop developed.

Perhaps the increased motion of the boat animated the baits, two hundred feet down, but for whatever reason the bites were quicker in coming and the fish we were catching were better.  The dog fish were fewer in number and the skate that was caught was smaller and took less time to bring to the surface and release.

Sidney was finally being paid for his time and patience.  With each drop of the bait he was being rewarded with good bites and good hookups.

Ron (Kurt's friend) and our camping friend Sidney Johnson

Three such hookups resulted in three very nice-sized fish being placed in the fish box. 

By now the swells seemed to be approaching five feet in height but the bite held.  The writer caught and boxed two fish before Kurt caught the last fish of the day, a fifty pounder.  The fish box held a limit for everyone on board.

It had been a good day and a good trip.  We were ready to head for the house.

We were underway at one thirty.

On the way in Kurt took the wheel and Mike began filleting the fish.  Sidney and I helped.  With a steady rain falling Mike filleted while I held the bags to receive the fillets and Sidney stored the bags that were full.  Somehow it seemed appropriate that the writer got left holding the bag.  Before the processing was over all three participants were glad they had worn their rain suits as the rain was now falling in earnest and anyone without a rain suit would be soaked in a matter or a couple of minutes.

Three miles from the shore the filleting chores were finished, the fish bagged and a quick clean up completed.

Mike took the wheel to take us in and put the boat on the trailer, with just a kiss on the receiving uprights, no mean feat.  Where we were, in the crook in the bay, we had some shelter from the wind and waves, so the landing of the boat onto the trailer went smoothly.  In bad weather, rough seas, sometimes the captains missed the trailer and ended up on the beach with damaged motors and boats.  Other times, in bad weather, boats hit trailers damaging both. 

With the boat hooked firmly to the trailer the tractor pulled us out of the water, across the    beach and up the hill to the parking lot.  Once there we reversed the loading procedure, passing rods and equipment out first and then climbing down a ladder to once again be on solid ground. 

It had been a very good trip in spite of the rising seas and rain.  Now, at three thirty, it was time to start home.

Driving back toward Soldotna and Custom Seafood where we dropped off the fillets, for packaging and freezing, the rain washed the parking lot sand and salt from the pickup but not the occupants.

Forty five minutes later we were in Soldotna.  Don, who had polio as a child, needed some crutches.  Those he had borrowed from LaVon at Castaway had proven too tall.  We stopped at the Safeway Pharmacy where yours truly hustled in to find where one could rent or buy crutches in Soldotna, the answer; Soldotna Professional Pharmacy.  The writer knew where that was and we drove there where Don got a pair of crutches that fit him.  Later he chose to leave them with Kurt for use on his next trip up.

We dropped our halibut fillets, all one hundred ninety one pounds of them, at Custom at five.

We were unloading the truck, in the rain, at six.

Tired but happy the writer went to the Marlin to see Onie and relate the events of the day and catch up on her activities.

The visit was short lived as he made his way to the shower at six thirty.

Back at the coach he and Onie dressed for an evening with the Hager’s, at their place on the hill.

At seven we stepped through their door.  Nancy had the table set with a big salad and shish-ka-bobs were ready for the oven as soon as the salad was started.  The salad and marinated veggies and meat were a real treat and when they were all gone and the dishes cleared, the dominoes were brought out.

Onie and Bill were partners as were Nancy and I.  We started playing at eight.  Four games later it was eleven and each team had won two games.  It was a good place to call it an evening.  We thanked the Hager’s for their hospitality and drove down the hill to our summer home.

Once there Onie got out and went in the house.  The writer continued on to Sidney and Barbara’s.  Sidney had recently purchased a boat from Shirley and Bill Sturgis and wanted some help with the paperwork, title transfer and application for a new title.  It seems that folks know that those of us who spent most of our working lives wrestling with paper in an insurance agency know our way around forms, plain and not so plain.  Ordinarily the writer wouldn’t call on anyone at this late hour and he had advised Sidney of his, the writer’s, evening plans and Sidney had asked him to come by when he got home.  At Sidney’s house the lights were dimmed.  A light rap on the door brought Barbara, at once.  She told me Sidney had gone to bed and thanked me for coming by.  She asked if we could do the paperwork tomorrow.  Never one to do today what can be put off until tomorrow I agreed and went home, to bed.

 It was midnight.

August 13, 2008

Wednesday

SILVER

After lying abed for a while we got up at ten.  Outside it was forty eight and liquid sunshine was falling from the sky.  Inside we made tea and coffee before setting down to our breakfast of corn on the cob and ribs.  Some folks are hidebound by tradition when it comes to the first meal of the day but not us.  We are hidebound by appetite and what is available and often what needs to be eaten to clean out the refrigerator and so it was this A.M.  While we ate we filled in the blanks on the daily crossword.  When it was done and our plates were clean Onie rose to make brownies and fudge.

The writer sat down to fill pill boxes with a four week supply of what keeps him out of the hospital and on the fishing grate or in a hunting box.

With that chore out of the way he made a few notes before heading off to take care of another recurring chore, the honey wagon and filling the fresh water tank.

The liquid sunshine was replaced by the radiant kind and he made his way down to the river, with a can of gas, to refuel the boat motor.

Kurt, Ron, Don and Sidney were in the first boat down the river.  Onie, Bill, Nancy and Barbara were ferried down on the second run.  Everyone fished for three hours and lots of pinks were hooked, landed and released.  Onie managed a red.

Kurt, Ron and Don were all tired and ready to go back up the river.  Nancy, who had been sitting in the boat watching and reading, was cold and wanting to go home, also.  With those folks delivered back to camp the writer went back down river to Onie, Bill, Barbara and Sidney who were still on the gravel bar fishing.

Time and usage had caught up with Onie’s rod and it had snapped in two when she had hooked a big humpy.  Fortunately the rod carries a five year warranty so we can get it replaced with no charge except for shipping.

Reduced to one rod between us Onie and I shared mine.  Onie landed a silver weighing in at nine and three quarters of a pound while the writer strung one that was an even ten pounds.  Bill in the meantime had landed two humpies, one of which almost upset him and pulled him in the river, but he remained high and dry having had a good time with the fight.

It was nearing eight and the Alaskan mosquitoes were adding their bite to those of the pinks.  We decided it was time to head up the river.  We loaded our gear and made a final run for the day.

On the grate Onie and I posed for a picture of us with our silvers.

While the two silvers were being filleted Onie fixed a big salad for us which we ate while we worked a crossword.

Later we both watched the Olympics.  Onie went off to bed at eleven.  The writer watched more of the games and then sat down to write.  Rawhide played in the background.  The music and writing continued until three A.M. when the writer gave out.

He joined Onie in bed.

Outside it was forty eight.

August 14, 2008

Thursday

ANCHORAGE

Alarms, as the writer has mentioned before, are the result of the Devil’s handiwork and not to be used anymore than absolutely necessary.  This morning it was felt one was necessary and as a result it began its infernal jangling at eight.  The author rose to start the coffee and tea then retreated to the bed where he hit the snooze button.  For sometime he and Onie dozed only to be awakened by a device once, thankfully, unknown to mankind.

When we rose it was partly sunny and sixty degrees.

It was Thursday so it must have been the writer’s turn to fix breakfast but Onie stepped in and saved him the effort.  Her hot biscuits topped with cooked down blueberries and a link of our sausage tops anything the author can put together.  While she was creating this wonderful meal the wrier made notes and had a quickie--shower that is.

In the car, headed for Anchorage by way of Soldotna, we stopped by Shirley’s impromptu garage sale.  Onie found a few treasures then I headed on to Custom to drop off yesterday’s catch and then to Trustworthy to see if they would exchange the broken rod for me.  I was fifty percent successful.  Custom took the fish.  I bought a replacement rod.

The coach came into sight at twelve.  Onie had stored her new treasures and was ready to go to Anchorage. 

We left soon thereafter and on the way out to the Sterling Highway we saw another moose.

We were blessed on the drive into Anchorage with two kinds of sunshine, liquid and radiant.  In Cooper Landing we stopped for a latte and Chai tea.  It was Onie’s treat.

We arrived in Anchorage at four thirty and going to Fred Meyer, at the New Seward Highway and Northern Lights, I let Onie out to shop.  With a quick kiss she bade me farewell and asked me to call her when I was on my way back.

Now, in rush hour traffic, the toad headed toward the airport.  By four-forty-five the toad was resting in a parking place and I was standing at the foot of the escalator in Ted Stevens International Airport waiting for Martha to get off her plane.

Martha Arrives with Pillow (Somewhat Out of Focus)

We met, hugged and headed off to collect her luggage.  Her most valuable piece of luggage she had carried on, her pillow.  She says she can sleep anywhere as long as she has her own pillow.  That must be more convenient for her than it is for me to have Onie with me before I can sleep anywhere. 

After we collected her luggage we drove to the Brown Jug where we filled the shopping list from the folks at camp.

We were just getting back in the car when Onie called to check on our whereabouts.  We told her we were on our way and would be there in five minutes.  We were.  Onie met us at the curb of the pickup at Fred Meyer.  She had a basket full of groceries and goodies.  Martha got out and exchanged hugs with her and then the two of them loaded the car with Onie’s purchases.

So far the day was going according to plan.  Our next stop was a Holiday Station, for fuel.  We were pleasantly surprised to see the price for regular had dropped to four thirty three per gallon.

Fueled we were on the road, headed for the Kenai Peninsula, by five thirty.

Now it really was rush hour in Anchorage and all the nutty drivers in Alaska seemed to surround us.   Lane changes without warning, abrupt braking and jackrabbit acceleration seemed to be but a few of the tricks they knew to frazzle one’s nerves and test one’s patience but we persevered and finally began to round Cook Inlet.

The tide was in and it would only be later that Martha would get to see the great mud flats.  The low clouds that had obscured much of the ground scenery when she was landing now hung over the Inlet and in some places delivered more liquid sunshine.

At Bird Creek we slowed so she could see the fishermen lining the banks and standing in the water, fishing for silvers, aka Cohoes.

Further around the Inlet we passed Girdwood and Portage before heading on to Cooper Landing and then home.

We had seen no animals along the way but the ride had been a beautiful one and Martha was at once inspired and awed by the beauty and ruggedness of Alaska.  We turned onto Scout Lake Loop, headed home.

There is a large hay meadow not far from camp and as we passed there we saw two Sandhill Cranes, foraging among the grasses, looking for their supper.

When we arrived home at nine we were all tired but Onie still put a salad and a sourdough roll full of chili, in front of us for supper.

Refreshed by the meal we visited until midnight.

Outside the liquid sunshine had returned. 

August 15, 2008

Friday

LAST TRIP

The writer was moving at eight thirty.  Martha was still sleeping when I started the coffee and tea.  The paper was read while the ladies slept on.  They rose at nine thirty.

The writer stirred himself and began whipping up a batch of buckwheat blueberry pancakes.  Onie started cooking some bacon in the microwave. 

Outside it was sixty two in the liquid sunshine.

We worked the crossword while we ate.

Later I went out to see Sidney, Mike and Bill.  They were all interested in going down the river, at three. 

Back in the coach some notes were made until two forty five when the note making was stopped and preparations were made to go down river.

At three we started down river, Sidney, Barbara, Bill and Mike.  When they were on the gravel bar the boat headed back up river for Onie and Martha.

Back at the gravel bar Onie got out of the boat and started fishing.  Martha stayed in the boat and began reading.  Ever so often she stopped to takes pictures.

Rods bent with the many hookups on pinks.  The were reeled in and skidded onto the gravel before pliers were used to remove hooks and send most of them back, to swim upstream and spawn.  Some of the largest females were kept.  They would be smoked and/or canned by Sidney and Barbara.

Onie and I both hooked, beached, bonked and strung a nice red.

By six thirty Martha, she had been sitting in the boat all the time, reading and taking pictures and wearing the top of my rain suit, was ready to go back to the coach as were Onie and Mike.  The light rain that had fallen all afternoon and chilly weather had taken their toll on them and Onie was ready to start supper.  The writer took them up to camp and then returned downstream for more fishing.

The pinks were in good supply and many more were hooked and released.  Those who remained on the bar were all weary and ready to go home.  We loaded up and headed back.

Back at camp the author helped Mike fillet his fish.  He had our reds filleted before we returned from down river.

A big salad, Martha’s specialty, was waiting in the coach   When yours truly got there we all enjoyed it.  Then Onie served her chicken and dumplings.  Mmm, Mmm, good!

With supper downed we went back outside.  Kurt and his group had returned from another halibut trip.  He was on the grate washing the fillets prior to vacuum packing them.  I went to help and later we packaged them and placed them in his freezer.

Kurt still had chickens in his freezer and now he gave us yet another one.  It went into our freezer to be cooked a later day.

Today was the last trip down the river, this year.  Kurt will be going home Monday or Tuesday and he wants to take the boat out of the water, tomorrow, clean it up, winterize it and get it ready for storage.  I will help him. 

Ronnie and Randy are going home tomorrow so we spent a little time visiting with them before going to the coach.

Martha, Onie and the writer visited a bit before Martha went to bed, at ten thirty.

Onie went to our bedroom at eleven and I wrote until one fifteen when I joined her.

August 16, 2008

Saturday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARTHA

Martha’s children love her but have no concept of time differences.  Her phone started ringing at seven thirty this morning, the middle of the night for a true Blomstrom, with birthday wishes from her offspring.  Grandchildren, taking a cue from their parents also called.  The author told Martha she should call her children at midnight, Alaska time, and then tell them she remembered they were night owls, too, and she thought they would still be awake at twelve.  Like most good advice this will not be heeded.

We got up at eight thirty, wished her happy birthday, sang to her and then started the coffee and tea.  Things would start looking up for her now that her children had called and she had endured our singing.  Most anything else would be an improvement.

Onie fixed the writer’s favorite birthday breakfast, biscuits and sausage, at nine.  He hoped Martha enjoyed her birthday as much as he was enjoying her breakfast.

With summer fun coming to an end clean up work was needed to ready toys for next summer.  That included cleaning Kurt’s boat.  Sidney and the writer headed off to the car wash with Kurt, to rid the boat of all vestige of salmon odor.  We returned at one with a boat that smelled only of soap and water.

Martha and Onie had gone to take showers.

The author made a few notes and then went to the shower, himself.  After all it was Martha’s birthday and one should smell reasonably good for one’s sister’s birthday.

At two we set off for Homer and a little exploration along the way.

We left for a little birthday outing about two o’clock.  We were headed for Homer, some sightseeing and perhaps some supper.  It should be a fun day for all and another birthday to remember for Martha.

The road to Homer is full of beautiful scenery and photo ops. At Ninilchik we stopped at a little beachfront café that overlooks Katchemak Bay and has a great view of two of the five volcanoes, in Alaska, they are part of the Pacific Ring of Fire.   We ordered a latte for Onie and a Chai tea for Martha and me.  We sat inside, it was cool outside, and enjoyed the scenery and the terns and shearwaters as they wheeled over the water.

With our beverages downed and ready to continue our adventures we stopped, on the deck, long enough for Onie to get some pictures.

On a bluff, overlooking the café and everything beyond is an old Russian Orthodox Church.  We drove to it to get a closer look and admire its architecture and adjoining graveyard.  The building was closed but we were able to get some pictures of the outside.

Back on the road we headed on down south toward Homer.  Along the way, on our right, we got glimpses of the bay and distant mountains.  On the left we saw forest and meadows with streams and ponds.  On both sides of the road we saw bald eagles riding the thermal currents.

In Homer we drove to the end of the Spit and had a look at the home of the Eagle Lady, the unsightly condos that have been built at the end of the Spit and the detritus that seems to accompany any sea port.  Then we went back to the parking lot near Coal Point Seafood and left the car there.

We walked back toward Coal Point and the shops that lay just beyond, on either side of the road.  A nice blanket caught Martha’s eye and she went into the shop to look a little further.  Later she came out with a package, the blanket.  Shopping continued up and down both sides of the Spit until Martha decided that she had no more room in her suitcase.  Besides, it was suppertime.

A discussion was held about where and what to eat.  We decided on a place called the Fat Olive.  It must have been a good choice because even at seven thirty there was still a wait.  The place seemed to be full of locals.

While we waited we looked at the menu.  When we were seated, a little later, we decided on salads and pizza.  Onie had a glass of wine, Martha had a rum and coke and I tried a local beer.  Our choices were good and the pizza, which we rarely have, was delicious.

We had finished our meal and were ready to start back to the coach, at 9.

On the way home we saw two cow moose with their twin calves and two lone cow moose.  After seeing the cows with the calves Martha succumbed to her weariness and fell asleep.

By eleven forty five we were home and by eleven forty six we were in bed.

August 17. 2008

Sunday

MARTHA VISITS

We slept late and rose at nine thirty.

We had been blessed with more liquid sunshine and the sound of it on the roof had been very conducive to restful slumber.

It was still cool when we started out breakfast of coffee, tea and cold cereal.

Later we dressed and left for church.  Martha counted as a visitor for us since we are regular irregular attendees.  We introduced her as our baby sister.  It is not certain if anyone believed the baby part.

After speaking with Tim, the pastor, we left and got home at twelve thirty.

Kurt was in the going home mode.  The boat had been winterized and readied for storage and now he wanted the truck cleaned up and readied as well.  The writer’s church clothes were traded for work clothes and then he and Kurt set off to the car wash where the truck was given a thorough scrubbing and then driven home.  There we gave it a hand waxing and buffing before cleaning the interior and applying three oh three to all the trim.  The truck looked brand new and certainly too good to leave under cover all winter but that is where it would be.

Martha napped while the truck work was taking place and Onie went to Freddie’s.

When the work was done, at five thirty, Martha awake and Onie back from shopping we took our chairs and went to Sonny’s for a campfire.

Back in the coach Onie put our supper on the table at eight thirty.  Kurt joined us.

After supper Kurt and the author descended on the grate, in the rain, where we caught humpies and female pinks.  The fifty degree temp didn’t deter us from spending this last evening of his, before going home, fishing.

Onie had the house smelling really good with her baking when I returned to work a crossword with Martha. 

Later a few notes were made and some writing accomplished.

Onie and Martha went to bed around a quarter of eleven and the author joined Onie shortly thereafter.