August 18, 2008

Monday

CHOWDER

Martha was still on Texas time and rose and showered before eight.  She had walked to the lodge under cool sunny skies.

Onie got up at nine and fixed the coffee and tea, rousing me with a hot cup at nine thirty.

Water standing in the bath tub constitutes an emergency requiring immediate access to and use of the honey wagon.  Last night water had appeared in the bath tub.  This morning with just hot tea to keep me going, the four-wheeler was fired up, driven to and hooked up to the honey wagon which was promptly driven to the Marlin.  Half way through the pumping process the pump jammed and had to be disconnected, cleared and restarted.  In the future a close check of the last user will be noted and any foreign objects appearing in said pump will be removed by that person or persons.  The forty five minute job ended up taking more like an hour and a half.

At least the writer was able to completely fill the fresh water holding tank while he wrestled with the discharge side.

When the Marlin had been serviced the honey wagon was moved to Kurt’s where his tanks were pumped.

After those jobs were over we both went down to the grate to see a thirty pound king that had spawned out, died and lodged on one of the supports for the grate.  His rotting flesh would soon be food for smaller fish down river.

Viewing of the newly departed at an end, the author went back to the coach.

Onie and Martha had gone shopping.

The next hours were spent straightening up outside, under and in the basement of the coach as well as covering the four-wheeler.

Tired of outside jobs the writer went into the Marlin where he made a few notes and wrote a few lines before deserting those endeavors in favor of games.

Onie and Martha got back home and prepared halibut chowder, for the whole camp..

With Kurt closing his rig for the winter he had a give-away spree where all perishables were laid out on his picnic table and were there for the taking by anyone so disposed.  We were disposed for a few things.

When the give-away was over folks began migrating toward the deck.  Rumors of Onie’s chowder as well as verbal invitations to the whole group assured us of a full turn out.  If the chowder was not enough of a draw, Margarite had agreed to play for our pleasure.  In addition we had hot French bread, sour dough bread, deviled eggs smoked with salmon, smoked King Salmon and a vegetable tray.  Margarite at the keyboard meant that some of us would be unable to resist singing along.   Even though it was a bit overcast and somewhat cold, Margarite is a true southern lady so anything under eighty is cold, Margarite put on a concert that would shame many a musician.  For those of you who don’t know she is a professional piano player and entertainer and has performed with many well known artist. 

The gathering was quite convivial and was slow in breaking up but as nine o’clock neared, quiet time, people began drifting away to their rigs.  Those of us who didn’t know any better stayed and helped clean up.

Later, back in the coach, writing resumed before we all called it a day and went to bed.

August 19, 2008

Tuesday

ANOTHER TRAIN RIDE

We were up by nine.

The author fixed coffee, tea, Liberty toast and bacon.  Onie fixed Martha some hot chocolate as jasmine tea is too weak for her taste.

After breakfast the writer went to talk to Sonny and Sidney about modifying and moving the building he had bought from Shirley.  It was decided that modifications should take place next summer but it should be moved as soon as Chuck decides where he wants it for the winter.

The three of us, Martha, Onie and I all showered in preparation for a long day.

At twelve thirty we left for Exit Glacier and Seward.

We hadn't gone far, almost to the Russian River when we saw a black bear on the far side of the Kenai River.  He was fishing.  We stopped to watch.  We saw there was actually two bears and they were catching salmon, taking them into the trees, eating them and then coming back to catch another only to retreat again to the woods to eat the fish.

We watched for a few minutes before continuing our trip.

Moose seem to sense that bow hunting season is just a day away, tomorrow, and are staying out of sight.  Neither hide nor hair of them was seen on the drive to Seward.

We arrived there at two thirty and Martha and the driver presented their photo I.D.s at the train station and received boarding passes.  They were told they could board the train any time after five but before a quarter of six.

Back in the toad the trio set off for Exit Glacier.  They arrived there at three.

Martha and Thomas had worn tennis shoes but Onie had worn low quarter dress shoes.  Never the less she was game for a walk up to the foot of the glacier.  Along the way we stopped to take some pictures, while we rested.

The last few yards, to the foot, were treacherous for anyone not wearing good walking shoes.  Onie wasn’t.  She opted to stay at a rest station while Martha and the writer walked on to the foot of the glacier.  There they could hear the water, from the melting ice, cascading down, unseen, inside the glacier and then lower down and out of sight.  Even though the ice had a good breeze, and a cold one at that, blowing off it, the duo stopped for a picture.

Then Thomas took a picture of Martha silhouetted by the glacier’s blue ice.

The hike up had been a little strenuous but the walk down was quite sublime and done in no time.

We headed back to Seward arriving at four thirty.  This allowed us time to drive around both old and new Seward.  The drive was over in fifteen minutes; not much to this Alaskan seaport town.

During our drive we passed an ice cream shop.  Now, with time to burn, we stopped in for a treat, Martha’s treat.

The train station is just a block from the ice cream shop and we were there at five o’clock to board.

Onie would be leaving us or we would be leaving Onie but whichever was correct she would be driving to Anchorage to pick us up when we arrived at ten fifteen, God willing and the train on time.  When we were on the train Onie began her trip to Anchorage.

With an hour to kill we napped.

Promptly at six we felt a slight movement and our train trip from Seward to Anchorage was under way.  We will forego describing the first few miles of our trip as it consisted of a rail yard, boats in cradles, oil storage tanks, railroad shanties and other wonders of the world.

A few miles out of town we left most vestiges of civilization and rode into the wilds of Alaska.  We moved from our Pullman to the observation car.  The elevation was certainly better but one couldn’t see the ground close to the train and some very interesting things seemed to be there or so we thought.   Very soon a call came that we could proceed to the dining car.  Here we found our place to view all things good and perfect while enjoying a meal of pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy and mixed veggies done just right.  We lingered over our meal and then ordered more drinks, so we could stay at the table.

Outside our window Alaska and all its glory was passing.  We saw geese and ducks.  We saw streams and rivers.  We saw ponds with beavers.  We saw mountains.  We saw mountains capped with snow and mountains feeding cascading waterfalls.  We saw glaciers.  We saw vast meadows.  We saw bears climbing in a snow bank and we saw more.

Seldom does the driver/writer have the luxury of sitting idly by and enjoying the scenery but today was one of those times.  We had started in bright sunlight, had seen a little rain and then snow flurries for ten minutes.  We slipped through Portage.  Now it was beginning to turn dusk as we rounded Cook Inlet.  The sun was setting, casting its golden rays over the water and setting the sky on fire with its majesty.  We rode in silence enjoying God’s handiwork.

Coming from our reverie we called Onie to be sure she would be at the station in an hour when we arrived.  She was in Gallo’s Mexican Restaurant enjoying supper.  She assured us she would be there.

Now with light fading we began entering the biggest city in Alaska, Anchorage.  The driver noted we were just in back of the old Wal-mart on Old Seward Highway.   Looking to the north he pointed out Mt. McKinley, aka Denali, and told Martha that more people see the mountain from the Wal-Mart parking lot than any other place.  That is a true statement.

He called Onie again.  She was trying to get to the station but was having difficulty.  She knew where the station was but just couldn’t find the streets to take her there.  While we were talking she said she could see our train as it made its way to the station.  She was trying to follow its progress.

Onie is not accustomed to driving in Anchorage and must have been very frustrated as she tried to navigate and drive but she is not one to give up and by the time we had alit from the train she was at the curb.

The train had been just five minutes late, arriving at ten twenty, and we were in the Subaru and ready to head for the Marlin by ten thirty.  Onie had fueled the toad so we made straight for the new Seward Highway, Cook Inlet, Turnagin Arm Pass and home.

As the driver slid behind the wheel she handed me a big coke.  That and a wad of chewing gum would keep me awake and alert.

By ten thirty five we were on the highway and in hopes of being home in two and a half hours.  Alas, it was not to be.  There was construction, repaving, around Cook Inlet.  An illuminated sign advised there would be a twenty minute wait, for the pilot car.  The twenty minutes stretched into forty five and then some more.  Finally at twenty minutes to twelve we began to traverse the construction area.  Fifteen minutes later we, and a line of cars half a mile long, were through the site.  It was almost an hour and a half since we left the train station and we were thirty miles from Anchorage, maybe.

When Onie fueled up she didn’t scrub the accumulated bugs from the windshield.  They were so thick as to cause a vision problem for the driver so he stopped at Birdwood to remove them.

Onie could tell the driver was feeling the effects of a long day.  While he was cleaning the windshield she slipped behind the wheel and when the windshield was clean she told him she would drive.   He was very thankful but felt he should be driving if he was in the car.  Never the less he took a seat in the shotgun spot, buckled in and vowed to stay awake for Onie.  Martha slept in the back seat.

The drive home was long and somewhere around Turnagin Arm Pass the writer let his eyelids droop one too many times.  When they opened again the eyes told the driver they were close to Sterling.  Onie had driven on through the night, safely, while both passengers slept.

Onie brought the Subaru to a stop in front of the Marlin at two A.M.

We tumbled from the car and made our way inside the coach where we were all ready for bed in a matter of ten minutes.  Night time pills were swallowed; the writer ate an avocado, to stave off leg ramps, and finished off the brownies, before he joined a sleeping Onie, at a quarter to three.

Martha had begun sleeping even before the last brownie was gone.

August 20, 2008

Wednesday

COOL HEADS

Liquid sunshine falling ever so gently kept in what warmth there had been in the day.  The inside of the coach had been kept warm by three bodies sleeping away the wearisome tiredness of a day and stoking their energy levels, for the day had dawned several hours before the woke.

When everyone was stirring and dressed the writer scurried off to see about the new building he and Onie had acquired.  In future summers and winters it would serve as a repository of things not wanted in the coach nor needed at Lake Road in the winter.  Hopefully its acquisition and renovation will make summer life even more enjoyable.

Meanwhile Onie and Martha had started the coffee and tea and breakfast preparations were well underway.  When it was on the table we dined on an egg, biscuits and sausage.

Later work began on packing Dawn and Colby’s box they had left with us.  When packed it would contain warm clothing and rubber boots, none of which they would need until we returned to Texas and our home hearth.

The end of summer brings many and varied jobs with it as we prepare to head south.  Next on the list of varied jobs was washing and wiping down the waders Sidney had been kind enough to lend me.  When we get back to Lake Road a pair that I bought twenty five years ago will be inspected.  If they are still good they will be placed on the list of items to take next summer.  If they are decayed and no longer good they will be discarded and new ones purchased when we get back to Soldotna, next year.  Onie will get a pair too.  When Sidney’s waders were clean and dry they were returned to him with the author’s thanks.

Along with the waders a package of our frozen brisket and sausage went to Sidney and Barbara.  They seem to enjoy both and it is nice to be able to share with others who are so generous.

Chuck is also a big fan of our sausage so a package was left with LaVon, in the office.  While I was there I picked up some cleaning supplies that had been left on the deck after the chowder party.

Our step on the coach has been at rest all summer.  When Onie tried to operate it the other day it was obstinate and refused to work, preferring welfare to honest labor.  Now the driver paused to check the operation and see if he could diagnose the problem.  By listening closely he could hear the electromagnet engage but the servo didn’t work.  That meant that the mechanism would, in all probability, have to be removed and worked on; a project for another day.

Our church is still without a permanent minister of music and I had received an email from our pastor regarding the position and church finances.  Now a reply was sent.

Onie was up to her elbows, literally, in the refrigerator freezer, defrosting it.  The driver took over with the hair dryer and melted the remaining ice, dried the walls and relinquished the job to her.  Now she tackled the job of rearranging the contents of both freezers to accommodate all our fish.  This was a lengthy process and the writer, pausing long enough to give her a cooler, made himself scarce while she labored.  The job was one requiring a cool head and Onie had that with her head stuck first in one and then the other.

Martha, wise beyond her years, napped and read while the project was underway.

Bill Hager drove by to visit and we agreed on supper tonight at Suzie’s.  We planned to leave at six thirty.  After supper we will play dominoes or Skip Bo.

With supper arrangements out of the way a short walk took the writer to the grate in search of Silver salmon.  What he found was humpies.  He changed his flipping rig for a Blue Fox and tried casting, nothing.  Next he tried white spinner bait, still nothing.  Not willing to give up too easily he changed to a Tasmanian Devil, for trout, and got several hits on it but the fish hitting were too small to take the bait. Convinced there were no fish in the river, worth catching, at this time he returned to the coach where he made more notes and engaged in agency work.

Onie had finally finished her freezer work and made room for all our fish.  Now she headed off to the grate.  Many pinks tried to swim by her but she must have hooked everyone because she caught so many everyone lost count.  They were all released but she had a great time anyway.

Most folks in camp were working on preparations to leave next week or the week after.  Not much visiting went on under the sunny skies in the warm in afternoon.  The writer worked in a short sleeve shirt, jeans and moccasins with no socks.  It was one of the warmest, if not the warmest, days of our summer.

Bill and Nancy Hager showed up promptly at six thirty.  Onie, Martha and I loaded in the back seat of his car and rode to Suzie’s.  When we got there the line of folks waiting to be seated was out the door.  We put our name on the list.  It would be twenty or twenty five minutes.  It was twenty.

After our meal we rode back to camp, looking for animals but none were seen.

At the coach Martha left us as she had some reading she wanted to catch up on.  The rest of us went up to Hager’s cabin where we played dominoes.  Bill and Onie were partners and Nancy and I were partners.  When each team had finished second, twice, we called it a night and went to the house.

 Shortly after we were in bed asleep.

August 21, 2008

Thursday

RUSSIAN FOR SILVER

Seven isn’t too early to rise for hunting or fishing and since the author was going fishing this morning rising at seven seemed like a good idea.  He did.  Cold biscuits and sausage broke his fast along with some hot tea.  He dressed and got his fishing tackle and went to meet Sidney and Barbara at their rig.

They had a slow start this morning and weren’t quite ready to go.  We left at eight fifteen and arrived in the parking lot of the Russian River Ferry at nine thirty.

Yours truly was about to have his first experience fishing in the famous Russian River combat zone.  Just across the river, where the water powered ferry would take us is a stretch of water that has been filmed and shown many times on various sport channels as well as other TV channels.  It is where the Russian River flows into the Kenai.  Just above the confluence is an area known as “The Sanctuary” since it is where many fish heading up the Russian stop to rest and it is usually closed to fishing.  Since the red run is generally viewed to be over the water is now open to fishing.

After donning our waders, paying to park and paying to ride the ferry, a bunch of Scotsmen, perhaps my distant ancestors settled this part of Alaska as everything cost something no matter how trivial the service, we took our tackle, boarded the ferry and took the short, innovative ride, across the river.  Now the green freaks would love this ferry.  It takes no power and is maneuvered across the river on a cable suspended from either side.  Power for the crossing is gained by positioning the ferry at an angle to the current and the current actually pushes the ferry from one side to the other. On the other hand the green freaks probably wouldn’t like this ferry since it is built of steel, operates on a steel cable, has a steel wheel to position it in the river and takes folks to catch fish, a terribly traumatic experience for the fish.

One must understand that all this steel comes from iron ore which comes from a hole in the earth and then the ore is purified and turned into steel through a smelting process.  All of this goes directly against the grain of the true green freak that would have us live in the dark in a cave and eat berries that fall to the ground.  In case you haven’t heard they have recently decided that plants have rights too and that those rights are violated when we unceremoniously rip them from the ground or pluck them from the bush or tree to eat.  Ah, the stuff they smoke must be good indeed.

Anyway, we took the ferry and gained the other side, safe and dry.  Now we took our gear and sought a place where the fish were abundant and dumb.  This is the reputation of Russian River fish.  Apparently the fish we saw swimming up the river were Kenai fish as they were neither abundant nor dumb.  Yes, we did see many, and even hooked some, mature reds.  By mature we mean their bodies were a bright red color and their heads a dark green.  The only thing they were good for at this point was to spawn and die which is exactly what they would be doing, shortly.  In fact we saw some that were so spent they were actually going down river while they were still pointed up river and trying to swim that way.  Soon, very soon, they would be dead and if that wasn’t enough the Russian had closed to reds, yesterday, so even if we caught a bright one it would still have to be released.

We fished for four hours, Sidney, Barbara and me.  Barbara is the most tenacious fisherman in camp and today was no different as she stood hip deep in the fast flowing water and flipped over and over trying to catch the elusive and scarce silver salmon.  None came to her.  The game warden was very much at work today in this area as he should have been.  No place on the river could he have found a bigger aggregation of fisherman than here.  There must have been twenty five or thirty in a three hundred yard stretch of the river.

Now when the red run is in full swing this same stretch of river might hold three hundred fishermen as they stand almost shoulder to shoulder, fishing.  Inevitably this leads to tangled lines and some times lost tempers.  It has happened that hot tempers have led to fatal stabbings and shootings and all over a fish.  It is truly amazing that bears can fish side by side without fighting but humans, supposedly the smartest thing on the planet, kill each other over something that is but a meal and not a life or death item.

At the end of four hours we had, fortunately, witnessed neither shooting nor stabbing, and caught one silver salmon.  That is, Sidney had caught one silver salmon.  Barbara and I had caught a few mature red salmon and more rocks but no silvers.  Tired and hungry we decided to call it a day and go to the house.  We took the amazing ferry back to the parking lot and the truck.

We headed home at one thirty and got there about an hour later.

Martha and Onie had gone touring and shopping.  Their wanderings had taken them to Kenai and the Old Russian Orthodox Church where they visited with the priest.

While in Kenai they had gone to look at the river where they saw black bear fishing for his lunch.

This reminded them they were hungry so they stopped at a little café for a quick, but satisfying, repast.

They took the K Beach road back to Soldotna where they stopped at the moose is Loose for an apple fritter.

With a sugar high running rampant they stopped at The Homestead to do a little souvenir shopping before heading to Safeway for a few salad items.

On the way to Freddie’s they were stopped at a traffic light when a moose crossed the road right in front of them.  For those of you not familiar with Soldotna this is right in front of the Ford dealership and in downtown Soldotna.  Martha was stunned as well as amazed, flabbergasted and totally surprised.  She was probably something else too but the writer can’t think of another adjective to describe the emotion.

Onie took a picture.

Back at Castaway it was raining and the writer was on the grate.  The four hours at the Russian hadn’t been enough for him and he felt sure he could catch a silver if he was patient enough.  He was and silvers were caught with the largest weighing in at twelve pounds.

Kurt had given us a chicken which had been thawing for a day and needed to be grilled.  This was in addition to boneless skinless chicken breasts Onie had brought with us as well as a few other odd pieces we had acquired.  The whole chicken was cut up.  Six different seasonings were selected from our spice basket and different pieces sprinkled liberally with the different spices.  It was hoped that one of the spices might appeal to Onie or Martha.  The grill had been lit earlier and before the writer went off to fish he had donned his chef’s hat and started the chicken.  Now and then he had made a trip from the grate to check on the progress of his cooking attempt.  It was determined that when the silvers were caught and filleted that the chicken was done. 

The grill had been under the awning, to keep it out of the rain, and when Onie and Martha returned at six it had to be moved to let them in out of the liquid sunshine.  The cook, fisherman/writer helped unload the car and then joined them in the coach to hear a recitation of their day’s adventures, as recorded above.

Onie put supper on the table at eight.

After that we made what some might consider a mistake, we taught Martha to play Skip-Bo.  We started at nine and at three we declared a truce and went to bed.  Later she told us she enjoyed the game so much she had thought to wake us at five for a few more games.  Thankfully she didn’t.

August 22, 2008

Friday

OH WHAT A DAY!

After a long night of Skip-Bo we were up at ten, making coffee and tea.

Martha packed as the brews were made.

Onie fixed scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits for breakfast.  When it was over Martha did the dishes.

Birdie came by to talk about the zip lock omelet affair tomorrow.

We went online for Martha to get her boarding pass and search for information about the Texas Department of Criminal Justice.  While we were online we downloaded and printed pictures of a house that Sidney and Barbara are trying to buy, in Virginia.  Their son is looking after many of the details for them and had forwarded the pictures to us.  Sidney and Barbara don’t do the web.

Paying bills seems to be a never ending chore and today a few more of them were paid then it was off to the shower before using the honey wagon.  Onie had discovered water in the bottom of the shower and that meant the tanks had to be emptied, ASAP!

Martha and I left the camp at three thirty.  We had hoped to get away by noon but somehow it didn’t work out.  (See the above.)  We headed toward Soldotna and stopped by Verba’s Prop Shop only to find they were still closed.  We were trying to drop off the prop from Kurt’s motor to be reworked and even though the sign on the door said he would be back on the twenty first, here it was the day after and he still wasn’t back.  We headed on to Custom Seafood where we dropped off the fillets from yesterday’s catch before stopping by Coldstone Creamery for a little ice cream.  Our next stop was the post office where we mailed the checks that had been written to pay bills.  It seemed we would never get out of Soldotna as we stopped at Freddie’s for fuel.

At last we were on the road for Anchorage.  It was four thirty.

It was a nice drive in the overcast cool afternoon.  We drove into Bear Valley and looked at Portage Glacier before stopping at Girdwood.  At the Inlet the tide was way out and Martha got to see the great expanse of mud flats we had told her about.  We drove on to Anchorage and into lots of traffic.

We were cutting it close when we arrived at the airport at seven forty; she had a nine ten flight, and unloaded her bags for a curbside check in.

A fond farewell was said, hugs exchanged and Martha disappeared into the airport terminal.  The security guard motioned me to drive on.  I did.

My next stop was the Holiday Fuel Stop for fuel and a coke.  By eight thirty I was on the road again, in heavy traffic.  It seemed every living soul in Anchorage wanted to go to the Kenai Peninsula, this weekend.

Rounding the Inlet the Subaru was passed by other vehicles whose operators were either insane or drunk or perhaps both.  They were passing where there was a single yellow line in our lane, meaning “I dare you” and where there was a double yellow line meaning “I double dog dare you”.  There were lots of takers of these dares.

The fast drivers out paced the Subaru but we held our own with most of the traffic, rounding the Inlet, watching the incoming tide and enjoying the drive.

Inside the Subaru the music of Ray Price kept the driver company.  Outside it was misty and fifty two.

Even with eyes wide open the driver saw no animals on the way home reaching there at ten twenty.  He had made good time.

Onie was in bed but had left him a salad, on the table.  He sat and ate it while working a crossword.

It was forty seven at twelve when he joined Onie in bed.

August 23, 2008

Saturday

ZIP ME UP

Onie was up at nine fixing coffee and tea and working on a casserole for the Zip Lock omelets, later in the day.  She chopped her onions and bell peppers and laid them in the dish with the rest of the ingredients.

The writer stumbled out of bed at ten and headed off to the shower.

The omelet affair was to start at eleven.  Yours truly arrived at twenty minutes ‘til.

Sandy’s keyboard had been set up for Margarite and she was already warming up when the author arrived.  Since it was cool on the deck our heater had been set up to keep her warm.

After pausing to add ingredients to my zip lock bag, Onie had already put the eggs in it, and then mashing them all together, I worked my way around to where Margarite was playing.

Everyone who was still in camp was in attendance and although the singing participation wasn’t as good as it had been during the evening event it was still a good time for everyone there.

With things to be done, time is growing short for many of us; the party broke up near one thirty.

Onie and I carried our dishes home in the light sprinkle that was falling through he fifty two degree air.

In the coach notes were made about the day’s activities as well as a couple of hours were spent writing.

With the creative juices on the wane the writer went out to fish with Dennis.  A few pinks were hooked, landed and released, in a light rain and then the rain began in earnest and fell in a down pour.  We went back home.

Onie was busy cleaning.  It seems there is no end to the cleaning.  She scrubbed the whole carpet so she could see the really bad spots that need spot cleaning.  It looked pretty good to me after she had cleaned it and I really couldn’t see the spots.  When it was dry she ran the vacuum over it.  Tomorrow she would spot clean it.

I stayed out of the way and checked my email while she was cleaning the floor.  When she was done I relinquished her laptop to her so she could check her email and do a bit of surfing.

We watched the Family Feud while a few notes were made and then it was back to fishing.  More pinks were caught before we headed back to the Marlin at seven thirty for chicken salad.

At eight fifteen we walked over to Sidney and Barbara’s where we played Skip-Bo until we went home at eleven.

August 24, 2008

Sunday

ANOTHER GUEST

We were up at seven thirty.  Outside it was very foggy and forty five.

The writer sat down and checked his email.  After an hour the coffee and tea were started and then some notes and writing were done on the laptop.

Onie joined the writer at nine.  We had oatmeal for breakfast then dressed for church.

In the car we drove up the hill to get Margarite.  She was going to church with us.

At church we spoke with Tim and introduced him to Margarite.  He would not be preaching today as the guest evangelist would fill the pulpit.  When it came time to introduce visitors we introduced our guest, Margarite.  The minister delivered a good sermon, reminiscent of earlier evangelists reminding folks what they are saved from, hell, as well as what they are saved to, heaven.

We got back home at a quarter after twelve and changed our clothes and finished the Sunday crossword.

Outside we began making preparations to head south.  The tire covers were taken off and cleaned and then laid out to dry before they were folded and stacked, waiting for a place in the basement.  A fresh coating of Three-oh-three was sprayed on and rubbed into the now exposed tires.  It is supposed to protect them from damage caused by ultra violet rays.

Sidney and Sonny were ready to move the new building to a place that would be more out of the way and free up space for winter snow when it is removed from the drive.  The forks were put on the Bobcat.  With the forks under the building straps were put around the building and attached to the front end of the Bobcat.  The building is eight feet by eight feet.  With the building firmly attached it was picked up and to be a new location just down the parking lot.  After the move we used the Bobcat to move some burn barrels.

With the building where it would stay, until our return next summer, the writer began moving some things into it.  First some excess charcoal was placed in it.  Then some more things came out of the basement and were taken to the building; camp stools and tables as well as some fishing gear.

With each item removed from the basement we got closer to being ready to reload it prior to going to our winter home.

Dennis and Sandy were getting ready to leave, also, but they would be back next weekend but we would be gone   We stopped to visit with them and exchange hugs before they took their dogs, loaded them in the car and headed for Anchorage.  Our new neighbors, Don and Julie and his father, Vern, were also leaving.  They too would be back next weekend, they live in Anchorage, but, again, we would be gone.  They had been good neighbors and we look forward to seeing them again next summer.

Too many leave takings can be hard on one and can require some therapy to overcome the effects.  We decided on some therapy and headed for the grate to flip for a while.  Pinks and humpies were in good supply but silvers and reds were few but the author did hook and miss one silver.

Onie fixed Sandy’s salmon casserole dish for supper. Sidney and Barbara joined us at seven for supper which also included a big salad.

After supper we played Skip Bo until ten thirty when they went to their rig.

Olympic men’s volleyball was on TV.  We watched until the American team had won the gold medal and then fell asleep.