Free Ride Down to Estacada to see Six Great Grandchildren

5 April 2014; Estacada Oregon --

Late this first week in April, my oldest daughter, Su., invited me to accompany them (Her, Her Husband, Stn., and their youngest daughter [my Granddaugther], Ra., aka, "Piano-Fingers") on a one-day trip to visit my Oldest Granddaughter, Ay. Since Ay. is the Mother of six of my 31 Great Grandchildren, how could I say anything but a hearty "YES!!"?

Leaving Grumpy's Castle at the unholy hour of six a.m., we ventured South hitting the Interstate -- with my Granddaughter Ra. at the wheel!! 

Since I was instrumental in giving Ra. her first opportunity to drive on public highways in Nebraska and South Dakota, I felt proud of the excellent job she did in navigating the on and off ramps at the interchanges and ignoring the distractions, but avoiding the hazards, of other traffic passing on either side and sometimes pulling into her lane in front. Her Dad and I meanwhile rested peaceably in the back seat, with nary a word of alarm or advice needing be emanated from either.

Enroute, we stopped at "Country Cousins" restaurant in Centralia for a late breakfast. This was a welcome stop in this nearly four-hour trip; we were able to empty and refill our coffee reservoirs, as well as update our nourishment needs. Our cooperative waiter agreed to take this photo of our little group.

Upon arrival at Ay.'s place in mid-morning, we were greeted by lots of Great Grandchildren -- all handsome boys except for the beautiful Elianna. Here she is, adoring and lovingly holding Su.'s smallest Yorkie -- the only child among this troop with whom this little dog would abide!

The youngest, Sam, attracted -- and demanded! -- much attention; he is an exploratory crawler and promises to be a real hand full for all when he starts walking [The oldest, Malachi, announced that he had witnessed Sam stand!] Mother, Ay., took this news with total aplomb; she had seen it before? Certainly at least with the other five.

Here he is with his Grandpa Stn. with the very happy face he presents to all who meet him.

And here he is greeting Ra.'s young Chesapeake *Newfoundland, Erard. Both were curious about the other. This exchange was both friendly and supposedly "delicious" -- they both wanted more!

And, lastly, but not leastly, here the young Sam delights in the arms of his Grandmother Su.

Before we left, Great Grandpa had to play a little "catch" with Malachi. The opportunity was too short; next time, I will have to engage in this little exercise earlier in the visit; at the rate he is growing, his pitches may soon be too "hot" for Great Grampa Z's hands to hold!

*Note the correction to the breed of dog to which Ra. "belongs"!!

A Visit to "The Hen House" [aka, Fort Bale]

Early and Late in March; At Fort Bale --

The second of March found Grumpy down at Fort Bale -- the straw house that J & H built. [It has no rats, it has two cats; it has no cow with a crumpled horn, it has two goats that'll take you by storm; it has no pigs, but a dog that is BIG; it has no geese, but of chickens it has lots of these.

When I stepped in the door, what to my wondering eye should I see but six [or maybe seven] baby chicks a-peeping in the hallway! [The reddish hue is because of the infra-red heat lamp that substitutes for their mother hen.] There were 25 or 26 chicks in the original incubator hatch, but the Swede [who is more successful in the percentage of incubated eggs hatched than either the owner of the incubator or another user!] had sold or gifted the majority of the chicks. These six or seven have each been claimed [and named!] by the two GGsons and their Swedish mother. The question of what will happen if one or two or three or four are roosters is left for the reader to imagine.

Some Thoughts by the Old Thinker

04 January 2014; Grumpy's Castle -- 

I am sitting around on this beautiful sunny January day, and I got to thinking about my children -- and Grandchildren, Great Grandchildren and of course my little Great-Great Grandson. I treasure each chance I have to be with them. I also enjoy the opportunities I have had and will have to experience adventure, including the amazement of people who think I am too old to be capable of anything other than sit in a rocking chair pronouncing wise -- or inane -- advice to my descendants.

I saw a cartoon the other day [when I get the chance, I will ask its owner for permission to get a color scan of it to include in this BLOGPOST]; the cartoon showed a half-grown kitten frantically clawing to get itself out of an open-top aquarium into which he had fallen while trying to capture a goldfish that resided therein. The caption at the bottom struck me as very appropriate for myself and others who may be approaching old age, or who are looking forward to same:

• To live to an "Old Age", one must first survive "Young and Stupid".

Here is an old photo of me on the right when I was about 6 or 8 months old. I was "captivated" in this old wooden apple box. In the "olden days" apples were shipped to the grocery stores in these wooden boxes. [I'm quite sure that "Red Delicious" were not invented yet; they would not have survived this kind of rough and unprotected treatment.]

And here on the left is another photo of me when I was 17 years old, a Naval Aviation Cadet in the U.S. Navy Reserve. 

Any resemblance to the cute baby in the first photo is probably due to Photo Shopping which was a technique that required the photographer to use his skill prior to the exposure of the film to the object. Ask #2 Son to explain this process; unfortunately I revealed to him one part of this photography trick long ago with a small fish that I caught.

And, finally, here on the right is a recent photograph of me  about 86 years later than the one in the box, standing on top of the snow on the hillside of Mt. Hood in Oregon.

Now, I believe I have survived the first part -- I have survived the "Young" part.


Now all I have to do is survive the "Stupid" part. Please, everybody, let me enjoy that part.

Love to all,
Dad/Grandpa/Great Grandpa/Great-Great Grandpa Z.

Four Generations

August 2013; Virginia Countryside, USA --

Grumpy is part of an unusual family. He met his maternal Great Grandmother Miller when he was 10 or 12 years old. She died a few years later at 97 years old. Grumpy's maternal Grandmother died when she was 94 years old -- in an automobile accident [one of my Aunt's was driving]. Grumpy's own Mother died at 103 + 3 months! So four generation photos are not uncommon in this family.

In fact, here is a five-generation photo taken a few years ago on an occasion when Grumpy's Mother [the Great Great Grandmother on this occasion] visited us [When #2 Son's #1 Son L. got married]. Grumpy's #2 Son, Grandson "Stretch", and oldest ZGreat Grandson are shown here with Grumpy and his Mother. [In fact, Great Great Grandmother N. celebrated her 103rd birthday here a day or two later!]

Grumpy, now being the oldest member of his generation in this family, proudly presents some four-generation photos from his lineage.

The first one I happened upon was this one, taken a year or so ago, shown here with Grumpy, Grumpy's #2 Son, that Son's #2 Son [Grumpy's tallest Grandson], and #2 Son's Grandsons, J. and A. [Grumpy's Great Grandsons]. These are the same two Great Grandsons who accompanied Grumpy on the Great Prairie Safari!

Grumpy found this two-year-old four-generation photo while looking for something else. How could I leave this one out? Two gorgeous blonde Mermaids in this one, previously included in a POST entitled Second Annual Four Generation Expedition.

On this trip back to "Ol' Virginny", Grumpy had the opportunity to capture photos of two more four-generation groupings. The first one included Grumpy's name-sake Son, Son's youngest son R., R.'s son A and of course the Great Grumpy himself.

The second opportunity happened just these past two days when said name-sake Son's oldest son -- also a namesake of Grumpy -- visited at the Virginia Palace of said name-sake Son -- with two boys of ages 12 (J) and 14 (D). 

Grumpy has at least one more four-generation photo to take before beginning on the first of his anticipated five (5)-generation photographs! But the five-generation stuff will be for another BLOG posting. This Post will be updated sometime in the future with at least one or two (or three!!) more four-generation photo's that Grumpy can boast about.

Oh, the work that poor Grumpy had to put forth to cause all of this!

Up In the Air

22-23 July 2013; At and Above Sealevel --

As I promised earlier -- but have been delayed writing this! -- I have had some more adventures in the Mooney. I don't have suitable photos to show all of my antics in the air, so the reader will have to rely on their imagination to picture the situation based on my verbal descriptions.

On Monday (22 July), I put 20 gallons of fuel in the right tank (capacity 24 gallons), and topped off (i.e., filled to the brim) the left tank. The sky being clear blue, and the horizon being visible as far as one could see, my destination was the little town of Cle Elum, just East of the Cascades. My "ulterior" motive was to check out the airstrip for this town with the hopes of flying my good and long-time friend, Margaret, over there some day to have lunch and a visit with her daughter who lives there.

Wind was light on this, the "Wet" side of the Cascades. However, as I reached 8,500 altitude and was cruising, I notice that my Ground speed (registered on the GPS) was 145 knots, while my True Airspeed (registered on my aircraft airspeed indicator) was just over 140 miles per hour. Now, since a "knot" is 6080 feet per hour, while a "mile per hour" is 5280 feet per hour, that means I had a tail wind of about 27 mph! When I landed on the nicely paved airstrip at Cle Elum, I would say that the wind there was all of that!

Upon landing on runway 26 [approximately 260 degree magnetic] (nice one, by the way), and taxiing over to the center-runway taxi-way, I discovered that the parking area was "paved" with near-fist sized river rocks. I made the decision to abandon my plans to check out the ground accommodations and instead did a 180 right there on the narrow taxi-way and went back to the downwind end of runway 26 for takeoff and returned to my home field.

Anyway, I got in two landings that day and returned without using very much fuel: 31 minutes over, 34 minutes on the return.

Flying with a Non-plussed Granddaughter

31 May 2013; Up in the Skies and Into the Wild Blue Yonder --

A Non-Plussed "Veteran" Aviatrix

This day was one to which Grumpy [and hopefully also my "Little Punkin"] has looked forward to for a long time. This was to be her first in a small airplane [she said she had never flown with me before until I reminded her of our flight from Mexico to the U.S. on a commercial flight!], and my first with a person who required a "booster seat" to be able to watch the scenery out of the window.

Since I planned for this flight to be about 2 hours in duration, I filled the right tank to the brim, just as I did for my solo flight the previous day. 

As we were preparing the airplane for this flight (loading the booster seat, the extra headphones, the chart, et al), Punkin looked at me with her big brown eyes and said, "I'm scared!" Grumpy inquired as to what she was afraid of. She grinned and said, "I don't know; I've never been up in a little airplane before."

Grumpy reassured her that her apprehensions were normal and that she would find things OK once we got started. And he was right.

Once again, Grumpy flew North along and to the east side of the 121st meridian to stay out of SeaTac Class B airspace. As Grumpy cruised at 4,500, just below the scattered cloud bottoms at about 5,000, Punkin pointed out the window at these clouds; I think she had never been this close to the bottom of clouds before. [Later, when we were on the ground, she asked me all sorts of good questions about what were clouds made of (tiny water droplets) and why the stuff in the clouds doesn't fall (it does, but when it is very small droplets, it turns back to vapor as it falls into warmer air and rises again -- and sometimes rain) and what gives them their shape (wind among other things).] 

At Granite Falls, we circled and criss-crossed my daughter's company facility, then departed westerly toward the Olympics, climbing to get above NAS Whidbey's airspace and a Military Operations Area ceiling. As we approached the eastern shore of the Olympic peninsula, we found an overcast that obscured the surface below. However, there were some very jagged mountain peaks poking out of the overcast to the southwest, so Grumpy flew in their direction, hoping to impress his little passenger-observer of the majesty of these peaks [Grumpy recognized that he had passed near these peaks on a back-packing trip with #1 and #2 Sons many, many years ago!]. As we neared this intended destination (Mt Olympus was actually what Grumpy had hoped to be able to circle, but its top was not discernible in the general white blanket that obscured the Peninsula), Punkin spoke up that she wanted to "go home!". Upon circling over the jagged peaks and seeing open ridges and snow-packed canyons below, Grumpy took a course for Paine Field, all the while descending to 7,500 to stay above the ceiling imposed over Paine.

As we were crossing Puget Sound, Punkin announced that she "needed to go to the bathroom!" Grumpy, after a brief thought, desperately and somewhat jokingly offered her one of the two portable "male urinals" carried in this normally male-crewed aircraft. She looked at me with those big, brown and trusting eyes -- and shook her head "VETO!!".

Back safely on the ground; Pilot and "Co-pilot".

After clearing Paine field airspace, we descended further toward 4,500 until about over the small airport at Snohomish. Then, as we "cleared" the 121st meridian, we turned South and remained at 4,500 to stay below the 5,000 floor of SeaTac Class B on our way to Crush field. At about Issaquah, we descended further to 2,500 as we neared Crush.

Grumpy entered the pattern for a landing on runway 33 and made a very good landing with a gusty crosswind factor. [Grumpy notes that he can still use some practice perfecting his landings. But his energy management and getting the aircraft during approach to landing is improving!]

Now What is Grumpy up to?

Week of 7-11 May; Up and Around the Pacific N.W.--

Uncle Bob flew his 1963 Mooney into the local airfield on Monday of this week, thus setting up a frenetic pace of unscheduled (and generally uninvited!) visits to the multitudinous descendants of the Great Grumpy. As has become usual when Uncle Bob and Grumpy fly together, I get to do all of the flying -- with careful oversight by the self-declared Captain (and OWNER) of the aircraft. [Grumpy once suggested that he (Grumpy) get to fly in the left-hand seat once in awhile since he is senior -- in years -- to his younger brother. Without hesitation, Bob straightened up to his full height and with stern declaration said, "No; when we were both little, you always took the first choice of toys, food and new clothes. This is my airplane and I shall remain the Captain!!" So that was that.]

Our first visit on Monday was with some of the most-local people, Bopop and Blief, with the latter of whom we enjoyed some Thai food. Although we had hoped -- and expected -- to get together later in the week, with Bopop and his Bride, regrettable other events as will be noted later prevented that.

On Tuesday we drove to the farm to visit with Rachel. While there, the up-coming trip to Brazil was discussed, with a lunch prepared by Rachel, and much-enjoyed music played by Rachel on her prized Steinway. We stayed late to share the evening meal with Susan and Steven.

Wednesday found us flying north to Arlington Airfield to visit Amy & John and the kids. Grumpy had reserved a compact, economy car for the 20-mile drive over to their house. When arrived at Arlington however, the car rental agency gave us a full-size, "Sporty" car (at the compact economy rate!) and we arrived for lunch in high-style. Grumpy, as usual, soon got himself in trouble by "riling up" the Great Grandkids with various mischief, such as running and screaming, inside the home. The kids enjoyed it while it lasted -- and so did Great Grumpy. For dessert after lunch, a delicious Lemon Meringue Pie was judiciously served by John. [I think he likes LMP's almost as much as Grumpy!]

On Thursday we flew south to Pearson Field next to the Columbia for lunch and a too-short visit with Grumpy's favorite Swede, "Stretch", J. and A. Of course "Stretch" had to play "hookey" from work around mid-day in order to join us for a "Mongolian Grill" meal. 

Back at the airfield, Uncle Bob took the Swede and two boys for a short airplane sight-seeing trip in which the challenge included finding where they lived. Since it is difficult -- even for someone as experienced as Grumpy -- to be able to identify ground objects from the air, they were not able to spot Fort Bale. Later, on the flight back to temporary base, Grumpy acted as spotter while Uncle Bob maneuvered the Mooney in steep banks over the supposed location of Fort Bale; Grumpy could not spot it, either!! 

This photo proves that, after all, he did the best he could. [Until Grumpy viewed this photograph, he did not realize that he had captured the proper location after all!]

Later that Thursday, Uncle Bob received a telephone call that summoned him back to the East Coast, so early Friday morning he fueled-up the Mooney for his long solo flight (2400 nautical miles) to his home base.

The two brothers pose together beside this airplane on which they have enjoyed so many good adventures.

Here Bob waves goodbye just before he boards his airplane.

Taking off and flying "over" Mount Rainier, Bob leaves for his duties in the East. As he gently turned toward the east, he waggled his wings as a final goodbye -- until we meet again.

What in the World is Grumpy Doing Now?

April up to tax-day 2012; In and Around the Sound --

I will just try to hit a few of the highlights of the various things I have done and places I have gone since getting back home from my travels out-of-State. Notice that I have dated this "April", rather than pinning it down to a specific day or days. My selfish reasoning is that I will probably not take the time to make multiple postings this month anyway; for one thing, I am not doing much that others may find interesting and for another, I am getting lazier in my old age to take the time to sit down and write many words.

Upon arriving back home, Grumpy was reminded that this was the school "Spring Vacation". Hence, the Grandson was visiting his Papa and Grumpy could be free to go visit at Fort Bale. After securing assurance that I would be welcome, Great Grandson A. suggested to his Mother (my favorite Swede) that she make a Lemon Meringue Pie for the occasion.

[Side Note: Ques: How and where did A. get a recipe for LMP? 

Ans: He had asked his Great Grandmother who replied, "Well, A., since you asked, I will give it to you!" (Grumpy had asked and pleaded many times! How come she never gave it to him?).]

Anyway, the results, shown in this photo do not do justice to the delectable taste of that delicious Lemon Meringue Pie. Grumpy can attest that it was the "real McCoy", with two notable differences: 1. The flavor of "free range" chicken eggs is different than "store-bought", and, 2. Grumpy did not get a stomach ache --- because he got to eat only two pieces instead of the whole pie.

The first Saturday, I rode with friend John M to Mt. Vernon WA to attend a luncheon get-together with SDSM&T alumni. Enroute to the site of the luncheon, John and I viewed some eye-dazzling daffodil fields.

We had a good visit with those who attended and look forward to more in the near future. One of the couples included a retired Boeingite with whom I graduated over half a century ago. John and I met them for berry pie and ice cream after the luncheon. Vernon (EE'50) was also a friend of brother Bob.

During the next week, Grumpy undertook the onerous task of stripping all of the old wax off of our kitchen floor. Not having his expert/housewife available any more to consult on the "formula" and/or most successful methods to use for such a task, he was reduced to his Boeing and college-days duty of doing "research and development" to find the best way or ways. Here is a summary of what he discovered:

1. Soap and hot water, with much "elbow grease":  Pretty much useless!!
2. Spic & Span liquid cleanser, with much "elbow grease": See 1.) above.
3. Spic & Span powder cleanser, with much "elbow grease": better than 2.) above.
4. Hot water and Ammonia, with much "elbow grease": Very effective at clearing the sinuses; but promising -- especially after a period of "soaking".
5. Pure Ammonia covered with a plastic sheet and left to stand for an hour: Eureka!! [Also, much kinder to the nose and eyes.]

Here are the before and after pictures, using method/formula #5 ("BEFORE" is on the left; "AFTER" is on the right).

Now, as soon as Grumpy completes the cleaning of the kitchen floor, he is thinking about replacing the faucet in the Master bathroom. [Perhaps he should post that in his "Grumbling" BLOG?]

The second Saturday Grumpy, accompanied by Margaret M., drove up to WWU to hear Granddaughter Rachel play her final piano performance before she graduates. On the way we toured the daffodil and tulip fields, finding this stunning view of Grumpy's favorite color. None of the vast acreages of single-color tulips could be found; evidently the tulips are later this year due to our cooler or wetter Spring weather.

Stay tuned for what happens to me after Tax Day!

A Harried Grandfather; A Mission to Escort his Granddaughter

Seattle to Merida; 19-22 July 2011 --

It all began with considerable anxiety, about the willingness of a six-year old girl who spoke only Spanish, to leave her familiar surroundings in Mexico and travel with that gray-haired Abuelito ("little Grandpa") whom she had remembered mostly from his visit two years ago and who spoke only English. But the trials and tribulations -- yes, and the joys, too! -- were greater than Grumpy could have anticipated.

The flight from Seattle to Merida, and our joint return flight from Merida back to Seattle, had been booked well in advance. Continental Airlines (in the process of merging with United) ticketing personnel even found side-by-side seating on the return flight! The U.S. Passport for Olivia, together with the Limited Parental Delegation of Authority and other legal papers, which might be required by Mexican or U.S. immigration personnel, were readily available.

Son Jim provided my early-morning transportation to SeaTac for the 6 am departure to Houston; how much I appreciate his help on this aspect cannot be put into words.

Arrival in Houston (for a seven hour wait) saw a rainy day (Seattle weather?). The long wait was made tolerable by making friends with a group of Baptists who were also going to Merida, on a mission similar to Habitat for Humanity. We were able to share some good, Christian fellowship, although one woman apparently questioned the status of my salvation; perhaps it was as a result of my identifying my background as a former Episcopalian!

The flight over the Caribbean saw the sun fade from early evening to the "darkest dark" that is typical of tropical sunsets. I captured this time exposure of the twilight glow in the Western sky (the reddish tinge on the flap "canoe" is from the red strobe light used to insure night-time visibility to other aircraft).

Abuela Maria met me at 9:30 pm, when the 737 airplane landed at the Merida airport, and Olivia welcomed me when we arrived later at El Casa de Maria.

Sleeping in a hammock is not as uncomfortable as some might think (including me, once). Actually, I found this night rather restful -- after about three hours of steady Spanish chatter from the little girl who slept in the hammock beside mine. She immediately found that her Abuelito did not comprehend much of anything she said (all very rapidly and with much animation!). I think she spent the next three or so hours trying to teach me the entire Spanish language!! [I enjoyed every minute -- until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.] Later when I awoke with the need to go to the bano, I discovered I had a little girl fast asleep laying across my body! I slid out from under her without waking her. Then when I came back to go to bed, I crawled [ -- what's the right word for getting into a hammock?] into what had earlier been her hammock.

After a full-day's stay, during which Olivia took Abuelito to the playground we had enjoyed on my previous visit two years ago as well as downtown Merida to an Internet Cafe where I hoped to transmit to my e-mail address the photos (taken on a Sony camera to be left for Adolfo's younger sister, Tania). Ultimately, because the laptop I borrowed for this purpose would not allow me to get on the Internet without the owner's password -- which was not recognized. So we went around the corner to a for-pay Internet access shop where the operator copied my photos onto a CD-ROM.

Thursday morning Maria took us to the airport at 4:30 am in time for check-in for the scheduled flight reservations for a 7:15 am departure. The tribulations began. I was advised by the Continental agent that we might be denied boarding because of Olivia's expired visa. My confidence remained that things would somehow work out and so, without revealing to Maria of any potential problems, we bid goodbye and Olivia and I proceeded upstairs to the concourse and the exit immigration check point.

My confidence was soon shattered and my concerns elevated when, as best I could comprehend, "there is no way that le Nina can leave Mexico ... ". An alert Continental boarding gate person came to my rescue and comforted Olivia who, already comprehending the gravity of the situation began to cry. This person also helped me to understand what needed to be done: wait until the bank (in the terminal building) opened at 9 am, have an immigration official calculate the penalty fee I would have to pay via the bank, and rebook with Continental for the next day. After much confusion, frustration and trudging from one place in the terminal building to another, the process with the immigration official was finally accomplished and we were rebooked for departure at the same time Friday morning.

Now a new problem arose. How to get back to Maria's! I did not have her telephone number nor her address, although I was confident I could find my way there. As it turned out (all I could remember of her address was "Colonia Sambula", a district within the metropolis of Merida), I did not correctly remember the branch of the main highway and steered the taxi driver into an area of dead-end streets and unfamiliar territory. However, Olivia calmly took over the instructions to the driver and very quickly had us redirected into the proper neighborhood and, before you know it, arrived right in front of El Casa de Maria! I tipped the driver handsomely (I hope!).

Again being awakened (this time by Maria!) at an ungodly hour to get to the airport to check in, and go through immigration for our 7:15 departure, we found the terminal doors closed and locked. [No need to have it open until nearer the time for check-in and ticketing for the earliest departure (ours!).] This time, though, things went more smoothly (although the immigration official on duty was momentarily confused by that special piece of paper that I presented to him in lieu of a visa that he normally saw). As we boarded our flight to Houston, we again saw the lady who had stepped in the day before to interpret to me what I needed to do, and to comfort Olivia. [No longer having a camera and forgetting the camera in my cellphone, I do not have a photo of her.] Coincidentally, this lady's mother was seated next to me on the flight to Houston! I hope she passes on to her daughter how much I appreciated her help in my hour(s) of concern the day before.

This time, instead of only a two-and-a-half hour layover in Houston, we had to wait from 9:30 am until 5:30 pm to board our final flight to Seattle. I bought two Stromboli for our mid-morning breakfast [Olivia ate some, but didn't like the taste -- neither did I!]. For a late lunch she had a Wendy burger and I had a salad. [Meals were for sale on the flight, but not even complementary peanuts or pretzels!]

Meanwhile, as we waited, Olivia "relaxed" to the entertainment of nearby older passengers, some of whom took pity on the Grandpa who was "in charge" of this bundle of energy; she soon became close friends with this couple from New Orleans who told me they had 10 kids, but only 4 or 5 grandchildren whom they didn't get to see as often as they liked. The lady, apparently convinced that Grumpy could not adequately spoil this charming little girl all be himself, purchased a soft, cuddly "beanie baby" kitten and gave to Olivia.

Olivia was not as curious as I had anticipated about what could be seen out the window; only the impressive cumulus clouds, including some developing thunderstorms (which our flight neatly avoided!), got her to call for my attention. During the majority of the five and a half hour flight to Seattle, Olivia curled up asleep in her seat (sometimes with her head on my lap), just as she had done during the two-hour flight from Merida to Houston.

Olivia's Papa and brother Ramiro met us at SeaTac. At home, Abuelita welcomed us home and soon the brother/sister pair, who had been separated for nearly five years, were engaged in a typical riot. Starting with a playful jab in the ribs by the little Sister and followed by the big Brother pursuit to a hopeless situation with Sister in the protective environment of Papa or Abuelita, then the Brother hiding and the curious little Sister seeking him out; a loud "BOO!!" from Brother as she passed by his concealment, screams and giggles as she ran and he again pursued! Such happiness!

It was pure joy on the part of we old folks to hear these sounds of contentment.

Two Days of Fun with the Gang at Fort Bale -- Part 4

Thursday Evening, 21 April 2011; Clark County Country --

Our last evening at Fort Bale (after the excitement of the "bottle rocket" launch) was to have dinner with the Fort denizens at the local gourmet restaurant. There were no "exciting" photos to be taken during the eating process. However a memorable "Kodak moment" occurred as we were about to leave and part company.

We came away from this visit with many happy memories, a good long visit with our Swede Granddaughter, our two Great Grandsons and our tallest Grandson. We also left with a carton of five dozen "cossetted" eggs from "coddled, spoiled-rotten, queenly-treated, hand-petted daily, range free, organically-fed" chickens whose nightly abode is "bigger than most 3rd-world families".

Yes, a good time was had by all!! The next time cannot come too soon.

Rachel's Piano Performance -- Playing some Franz Listz

16 April 2011; A University Campus --

This fine day in April, with the "Oregon Mist" falling incessantly, the Grand Mother and Friend Margaret traveled Northward to listen to the discordant tunes of Liszt played out by the various Senior students and Professors. Our Granddaughter Rachel was among the Seniors.

The performances, originally  scheduled to start at 3:00 p.m., were delayed nearly 30 minutes because the day's previous performances at the same venue ran a half hour or so late. Also, the fine, new Grand Piano to be used had to be re-tuned for the piano performances. As we were to hear, the "retuning" was not well done; the highest octave keys were notably flat!!

But, despite the badly mistuned piano, the "show must go on", and we heard some wonderfully-gifted pianists display their technique as they played various compositions attribute to Franz Liszt. [Two pieces by Schubert were included -- perhaps a test of the alertness of the audience during this four-hour session!]

Rachel's piece, "Legende 2, Saint Francis de Paule Walking on the Water" was pictorially described by Rachel as Saint Francis begging for a ride from some wealthy boat owners, for a ride across some waters; the owners, observing Saint Francis' shabby clothes, declined his request and set off without him; a terrible storm came up (musical crescendo symbolizing thunder and lightning and wind!!); the owners feared to lose their boat and their lives then saw Saint Francis blithely walking across the water in the midst of the storm (at this point Rachel said she visualized the full moon peering through the broken clouds as God acted to save the boat load of people).

Here are three sequential photos of Rachel's playing: The Storm,

The Storm: [Lower notes, loud pedal emphasized]

Saint Francis walking on the water with the Moon shining above,

Saint Francis Walking on the Water: 

[Triumphant, firm, mid-register legato.] 

and, the Storm subsiding as Saint Francis reaches the distant shore.

The Storm Subsides: [Tinkling high register; 

delicate, peaceful softness.]

The Untold Story About the Birth of Son Number Two; A Sequel

Long Ago and Far Away; Today's Memories --

It is kinda funny the way different people -- even different people who have lived together for over sixty years! -- have differing memories about the same subject. The case in point is the recent post in this BLOG about the hair-raising experience of a young and fairly inexperienced father-to-be delivering (ahem!) his young, and also fairly inexperienced, wife to the maternity home just in time.

A certain "Anonymous" commented that, in that BLOG posting, the author had subtracted a full 12 months from the normal human gestation period. That's funny because Grumpy happens to know that Anonymous wasn't even there when the events described took place! Anyway, being relatively clever with the modern replacement for the old Underwood, Grumpy made this important correction before any more eagle-eyed readers took him to task.

Another reader (none other than Grumpy's long-time companion and LMP baker -- hint! hint!) commented -- privately -- that no mention was made of passing an oncoming car on a narrow bridge on the way to the maternity home. She further alleged that this scary incident, caused by me, resulted in the hastening of her labor pains -- and then she added, "I'm thankful; I was ready to have that baby!!"

Well, about that supposed narrow bridge, as was implied in the original version, the Daddy was pretty much set on getting to the maternity home on time, and if that meant exceeding the speed of birth, then that was what he was going to do; as for "narrow" bridges -- well when flying that low, they just looked wide enough, whether the oncoming driver -- or the pregnant passenger -- thought so or not. Obviously, the bridge was wide enough to accommodate both vehicles for the fraction of a second it took to pass (closing speed may have been in excess of 120 mph; ~50 plus ~70-80).

Now, before I end this sequel, I must admit to a bit of devious thought in conjunction with the previous post on this subject: I wanted to include a black and white photo of this quick addition to our family. But, not finding one in my digital file, I seriously considered putting this one in instead:

I was sure that no one could argue with me that the appearance (especially the  sky-blue eyes and wild blonde hair!) is similar, as you can perceive by looking at this one on the left. 

But, not wanting to deceive anyone (heh! heh!) I thought maybe this one (below) would be a fitting memento of what a great son he turned out to be:

Well, the Grand Mother thought this one was pretty good, too. That's why I am ending this sequel with this memorable photo.

Our 2010 Auto Trip; Part VII, Day 10

In the Black Hills of South Dakota; 3 July 2010, a Birthday Party! --

You haven't been to a backyard barbecue until you have enjoyed one put on by Gary and Cindy. Gary is our youngest Nephew living in Rapid City. His wife Cindy is a vivacious blonde ball of energy who organizes and directs the most fabulous "do's" Grumpy has ever had the privilege of attending! This event, which Grumpy thought to be a substitute for their usual Fourth of July backyard bash, was an especially planned get-together to celebrate Francis' birthday (I think I am forbidden to disclose the exact number, but it was one year more than five decades older than Jack Benny used to claim as his age).

Since the Grand Mother and I arrived a couple or three hours before the beginning of the festivities, Cindy gladly accepted Grumpy's offer to help set things up. It was fascinating to watch and listen as this young grandmother(!) -- (Yes, she has at least three Grandchildren: Haley, Hannah and Brandon(?), who couldn't be there because they currently live in Texas) -- gave instructions to several people, besides Grumpy, but they were there specifically to help with the last-minute preparations. Grumpy didn't mind at all. In fact he was happy to be told what to do and where to go by this young lady (well, she's a lot younger than Grumpy ... but isn't just about everybody? Well, actually Francis, the honored one this day, was a few years older.)

It as also entertaining to watch as Cindy's "directing" included her husband, Gary who, like Grumpy. seemed perfectly happy to accept her instructions and carried them out as if choreographed. Soon all was ready and the rest of the guests began to arrive.

Including the Honored Mother/Grandmother/Great-grandmother! She looks happy to be surprised with this celebration, honoring her belatedly since such a get-together was not practical during her actual birthday ... last December!!

Here are all of her Great Grandchildren who were present, posing with their Great Grandmother. If Grumpy knew their names, he would introduce you. I do know that the little boy, second from the left in the photo, is Larry's Grandson (daughter Melanie's oldest).

Ramiro Turns Fifteen!! -- Before and After Pictures!!

Birthday Day, May 31st 2010 --
Our local teenage hero awakened this morning to the traditional Breakfast in Bed, served by the Grand Mother. Pancakes, smothered with cinnamon sugar, topped by eggs over easy with Boysenberry syrup garnisheed all over. The candle is the only unusual part of this dish -- a special touch just for his birthday.

For awhile he resisted the demands to "WAKE UP!!"

But, as the aroma of the freshly cooked pancakes and eggs (his favorite breakfast) drifted past his nose, he "came to" -- sort of.

The evening before, his Grandpa had requested a "BEFORE" photo (when he was still fourteen). But Ramiro declined saying, "I'll look the same!" So Grumpy had to substitute the enclosed photo as the "BEFORE" picture instead. I'm sure Ramiro will be happy with his Grandpa's selection. This is Ramiro before he was fifteen.

"First things first", is always the mantra of the teenager. So eating breakfast was out-prioritized by the urge to examine the cards and gifts that awaited on his  breakfast tray.

A pair of shorts and two purple "South Pole" T-shirts were found in addition to a surprise that fell out of one of the cards.