day two, final road trip

Today we once again practiced our new routine:  up at 5, out of the parking lot before 6 AM.

It’s a miracle, I tell ya.  And it only took 45 years to convince Banjo Man that traveling this way could be fun…and efficient…and relaxing.

He is now a believer.  We drove another 500 miles today and were splashing around in a Hampton Inn swimming pool at 4 PM.  We wore our new bathing suits and lounged in the hot tub.

Old people are cool.  Yep, we are.  Sometimes.

Because Banjo Man is always eating, I wondered how he would manage on the road.  So today I kept track.  He started with a banana, then his chocolate covered blueberries, on to a bucket of his oatmeal “sludge” ( a mixture of yogurt, oatmeal, blueberries and cherry juice).  After that came the sunflower seeds, then the orange slices.  And almonds.  All this was consumed between 6-10 AM.

The feasting continued with more sunflower seeds.  A chicken sandwich at Hardee’s.  More sunflower seeds, more chocolate covered blueberries, more almonds.  Water.  He finished up with a spinach and grilled chicken salad at Cracker Barrel tonight at 5.  He also ate the other half of my dinner.

I do not know if there will be a bedtime snack.

We did get lost today, while Banjo Man was driving and I was immersed in maps as we tried to decide if we should change our route tomorrow.  We missed our turn and  were in Chicago before we knew it, which was definitely not a good idea.  Six lanes of bumper to bumper traffic?  Uh oh.  The GPS led us out of it, south to a highway that intersected with our beloved I-80.  We were then only 20 miles from our hotel.

Joy.

Before I go to bed–okay, I’m in bed now and it’s only 7:30 PM–I just want to wish the wonderful men in my life (husband, brother, brothers-in-law, sons) a very Happy Father’s Day.

The world needs more good fathers and uncles like you.

 

 

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last cross country road trip, day one

We actually were on the road at 7 AM.

In Connecticut by 7:30.  New York at nine.  Pennsylvania before 11.

The new old car did great.   There was no road construction in Scranton—first time in many years—and very little truck traffic on any interstates.

We met Banjo Man’s business partner (one of Banjo Man’s favorite people) for lunch.  And then journeyed on another two and a half hours to our hotel.  498 miles!

Banjo Man forgot his bathing suit, so we went to JC Penney (conveniently close to our hotel) and bought him one.

Check out our bags.  Banjo Man has downsized from 8 to 5!!!!

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It is now 8:30. Bedtime!  Ohio, Indiana and Illinois tomorrow, with a Hampton Inn and Crackerbarrel to look forward to after another 500 miles.

See you soon, Idaho!

 

 

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cleaning up, packing up, heading out

We’re twelve hours away from heading west.  It has been an insanely busy week–okay, the last three weeks have been intense!!!–so I’m feeling a little frazzled.

The car is packed, which is unusual.

The car is not stuffed to the roof with stuff, which is also unusual.

Banjo Man has agreed to travel light, get up early and hit the road at dawn every day, which is unusual.  And I’ll believe it when I experience it.

We’ll put in four solid 500-mile days until Buffalo, Wyoming, where we will kick back and act like tourists for an entire afternoon.

We’re going to visit a bear refuge in Bozeman, I hope.  Just for an hour or so.

But most of the time we’ll be on the road, in the car, heading west, as quickly and efficiently as we can.

Because I need to do this:

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Stay tuned…..

 

Posted in rhode island, road trip | 1 Comment

once upon a time in disneyworld

The news this morning about the two year old being taken by an alligator in Disneyworld is horrifying and tragic.

But it’s not a surprise.

We were in Disneyworld in April of 1985, staying in Fort Wilderness.  I don’t think that area exists anymore, but at the time it was a really nice section of Disneyworld with trailers/mobile homes to rent.  Our family and friends rented three side-by-side trailers which backed up to a canal.  There was a dirt beach.  And picnic tables and outdoor grills.  It was an affordable alternative to the fancy hotels, but it had paved sidewalks, roads, a beautiful beach and all the amenities.

My children were five, seven and twelve.

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One afternoon Willie (age 7) and Nancy (age 5) were playing near the water just a few yards from the trailer while the rest of us were getting dinner ready.  The kids were putting rocks on a log that was sticking out in the water, but they weren’t in the water.   There were a couple of wild birds walking around, sitting on the log, pecking in the dirt.  I heard Willie scream.

We all came running out of the trailers.

“Alligator!!!!!   I see an alligator!!!”  He pointed to the water.

Willie always had the kind of vision that could see the smallest things.  He could find anything, from missing contact lenses to tiny bugs.

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Do you see the alligator waiting in the shallow water?

The alligator was less than two feet from the shore where the kids had played.  I think he was after those ducks (?).  He was 8 feet long.  And patient.

I called the Fort Wilderness office.  The woman who answered sounded bored.

“It’s Florida,” she said.  “We have alligators.”

Really?  We were from Idaho.  There were no signs that said, “Beware of alligators” or “Don’t go near the canal.”

When I told her the thing was 8 feet long she perked up a bit and promised to send someone over to look at it.

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A bag of raw chicken pieces tied to a rope did not work.

Two men eventually brought a boat to the canal and tried to tempt the alligator with chicken.  They had a noose and intended to rope it if they could get it to attack the bag.

But that alligator was long gone.

I told the Disneyworld people that they should have signs posted.   They acted as if we were over reacting.

Thirty-one years later?  Those poor Nebraska parents obviously had no idea of the danger lurking in the water.

We certainly didn’t.  And I don’t think the folks at Disneyworld wanted the fact that alligators were part of the resort to mar their reputation.

I wonder if they will put some “Beware of alligators” signs up now.

Posted in a more pie opinion, family, travel | 4 Comments

working out with sarge

Sarge is a workout beast, which is not news.  But what he did today?  Well, I thought you’d get as much of a kick out of learning about it as Banjo Man and I did.

It seems that Sarge and about 20 other soldiers in his battalion recently scored over 290 points on a physical fitness test.  To put this in perspective, I’m guessing I would score an optimistic 12, especially if there were points given for showing up.

Their reward?  An hour spent working out with the Sergeant Major of the  Army and the Undersecretary of the Army in Philadelphia, in front of Independence Hall.

How cool is that?

And it is the Army’s 241st birthday today, June 14!

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Sarge said reporters and photographers covered the event.  He had such a good time, even though he had to get up at 3 AM to drive to Philadelphia.

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Sgt. Major Dan Dailey

Here’s a little more info about Sgt. Major Dailey:

Dailey’s awards include the Legion of Merit, Bronze Star Medal with Valor, Bronze Star Medal (3rd award), Meritorious Service Medal (3rd award), Army Commendation Medal (7th award), Army Achievement Medal (10th award), Good Conduct Medal (7th award), National Defense Service Medal (2nd award), South West Asia Service Medal (one bronze service star), Iraq Campaign Medal (five bronze service stars), Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, Korea Defense Service Medal, NCO Professional Development Ribbon (4th award), Army Service Ribbon, Overseas Service Ribbon (3rd award), Kuwait Liberation Medal (Kuwait), Kuwait Liberation Medal (Saudi Arabia), Drivers Badge (wheel), Ranger Tab, Expert Infantryman’s Badge, Combat Infantryman’s Badge, The Order of Saint Maurice (Centurion), and he is a member of the Distinguished Audie Murphy Club.

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Under secretary of the Army, Patrick Murphy, working out with soldiers in Ft. Hood last January.

 

Needless to say, Sarge had a great morning.  He received an Army commendation and a new patch for his uniform, along with the chance to meet some highly respected soldiers, who are also his bosses.

If he sends me pictures (and hopefully he remembered to take some) I will add them to this post later on tonight.

In the meantime, happy birthday, Army.

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updates

The rug is getting used again.  As are Uncle Don’s plastic soldiers (circa 1957).

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We had a pizza party Friday night, with much-anticipated pepperoni pizza.

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So happy about pizza!!!

Remember my $30 car repair project?

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It worked!!!  I am now $1770 ahead of the game.   Banjo Man is so impressed and happy.  The climate control knob now let’s lovely cool AC blast from the vents.  Not that we need it, because it is 59 degrees right now.

Despite the cold weather, the Funny Grandson discovered the Atlantic Ocean.

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And lost a tooth.

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What a vacation!!!

 

Posted in family, friends, grandmother stuff, rhode island | 3 Comments

if this rug could talk

IMG_20160428_145410My paternal grandmother was quite the craftswoman.  Her specialty?  Rugs.  Braided, hooked, latch-hooked, she did it all.

The braided rugs were made from wool she bought at mill outlet stores (when New England was a center of fabric manufacturing) and yard sales (she bought wool clothing to recycle).  Many times she dyed the wool to get the colors she wanted.  I remember the Ritz Dye boxes lined up above her basement washing machine.  She also fed wide strips of wool through a hand-cranked device that churned out lengths of spaghetti-like wool for her hooked rugs.

The braided rug in the above photo has been in my parents’ house since 1964.  Before that it was in the living room in their previous home in 1955, where we lived until I was twelve.

There have always been braided rugs in our homes.  Grandma stitched them together with heavy thread and thick needles.  She must have had the strongest fingers in New England.

Son #1 is bringing the Funny Grandson to Rhode Island tomorrow.  This will be the five year old’s first visit to the East Coast.  Son #1 wants to watch his son play with his little cars and his little plastic Star Wars figures on the braided rug.

I think they are both going to have a good time.  The rug will make sure of it.

 

 

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missing the lake life

In my heart it’s still 1976.

Here I am riding in the back of Retired Mountain Man’s truck 40 years ago.

FORTY YEARS AGO.

How cool is that?

I’m still alive.  And so is RMM.  And so is the truck!

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bachelorette jojo and crazy chad, recap 2

Once again I watched an episode of The Bachelorette all by myself.  Banjo Man went to bed early and reminded me to record it, just in case I thought he’d like to see it eventually.

I will not be recommending that.

Boring and idiotic just about sums it up.  What has happened to romance, I wail to myself from the Giant Couch.  Why do I have to spend two hours watching arrogant Chad alternate between insufferable arrogance, rage and scarfing down cold cuts?  Why can’t I see sexual sparks and cute smiles and some shy-yet-intense kissing?  (Okay, there was some of that but not enough!)

jo jo chad meat

I’ll do a brief recap of Episode 2 for those  of you who might be fans of the show.  I’m sure it will be better next week (there will be two nights of back-to-back episodes) when the men dwindle down to a dozen or so and we can actually start telling them apart.

I cannot tell them apart.  Except for Chad (Roid Rage), Evan (Erectile Dysfunction specialist) and James (the guy with the curly hair).  I think James with the curly hair is the same James who plays the guitar but I can’t be sure.  There are three James this season, but one was sent home the first night, thank goodness.

Before some of the guys went on a group date, the limo caught on fire in front of the mansion.  No one seemed all that surprised.  A fire truck raced up and Jojo, dressed as a fire fighter, jumped out with a hose and announced their date would be at the fire fighting training facility.

This turned out to be so intensely physical that Wells, who is a DJ and not an athlete, almost passed out.  He ended up getting the Pity Rose later on that evening.  Grant, who is an actual firefighter, won the contest (“rescuing” Jojo from a fake burning building).  Duh.

GRANT, JOJO FLETCHER

from fashion-blogs

Meanwhile Chad, the “luxury real estate salesman from Tulsa”, is doing pull ups with his suitcase attached to his belt and calling the other guys names.

The next day  was a coveted one-on-one date with Derek (one of the normal men).  He and Jojo flew on a private plane to San Francisco and drank wine overlooking the Bay Bridge.  Just your normal first date, with “tell me about yourself” conversations.  Derek got a rose, which means he is safe for another week.

Another day, another group date, but this one was at the Sports Nation (ESPN) studio with two of its hosts putting the guys through their paces.  It was unwatchable, so I did a jigsaw puzzle on my Kindle and refilled my bowl of pumpkin seeds.  The guys seemed to be having a ball, except for Chad.  He made it known he thought it was dumb (why exactly is he on this show?) and called Jojo “naggy”.  I’m not sure he realizes that Jojo will NEVER FORGET it–I looked up from my Kindle in time to catch the look on her face–and his days on the show are numbered.

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The producers are giving Chad lots of air time in order to create some drama and fan the testosterone-drenched flames, but it’s not all that interesting.  He will push it too far, he will attack someone and he will get kicked off the show (ABC does *not* want to get sued and anyone aggressive and/or abusive is immediately ushered out of the mansion and sent home).   I only hope he attacks Alex The Marine, because Alex is dying to take him down.

I would enjoy seeing that.

Meanwhile…Jojo looks gorgeous and seems to be enjoying herself.  For now.

 

 

 

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diy car repair via the internet

The climate-control dial of my 2004 Highlander’s AC/Heat broke last fall.  Luckily it broke while set to 85 so we had a heated car all winter.

Of course that’s not so much fun now that it’s summer.  Hot air blowing at me is not all that terrible right now, but as soon as the heat and humidity set in, it’s going to be miserable.

You know how I believe that 99.99% of every problem can be solved by looking it up on the internet?  Well, this was no exception.  I actually found a lot of information about the climate control knobs on early Highlanders and how to fix them.

First of all, taking it to the Toyota dealer meant a bill of about $1800.  This would be the cost to replace the entire unit, including man hours.

(I also learned that the nuts/bolts behind the dials can get loose and then eventually result in the loose/broken wires.  I’ll be checking those nuts on our other Highlander, just to make sure things stay tight.)

I found a website–with pictures!!!–that gave step-by-step instructions on taking apart the console, removing the box, dismantling the connections and finding the three tiny wires that needed to be resoldered.  I assumed I would be able to solder them myself (I even went to Home Depot and bought myself a soldering kit) but when I realized how small they were I decided to take the advice of other online posters and find an expert in micro-soldering.

Here’s what my dashboard looks like.  Sarge, Banjo Man and I managed to take things apart with the proper screwdrivers, wrenches and butter knife.
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And here’s the part that I took to several computer repair businesses before finding a car stereo repair shop and a guy who said he’d give it a try.

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58 nuts, bolts and screws later here it is, heading to town for a cheap fix.

I just picked it up from town and now have to remember how to put the whole thing back together again.  The soldering cost $30, so this is definitely a budget project.

If it works it will be a miracle.    Please keep your fingers crossed for me.

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