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"!!

Bob's Favorite "Sport" -- Moving Rocks: Part One

Late October into Early November 2012; On Site at the Tennis Club --

Uncle Bob's real favorite sport is tennis. But, for the sake of this and a few future posts, Grumpy will resort to sarcasm by depicting the subject of moving rocks as his "favorite" sport. Bear with me, please; then perhaps you'll understand why.

Bare spot on lawn defines original resting place of BR

The "Big Rock" [hereinafter simply referred to as BR] will be the subject of this first story. This rock was the largest of the lot strewn over the side lawn at the Tennis Club. For reasons that only my brother might be able to define, this challenge was the first one to be addressed. BR started out in this place, at a relatively lower elevation than my designer brother desired its ultimate place in this one meter high rockery.

Moving 1000-lb rock with cleverness

Using ingenuity, mechanical advantage and brute force, it was slowly "coaxed" uphill to a location -- and orientation -- preparatory for the final "big grunt" that would position it into almost its final resting place.

BR in its next-to-final postion

The "big grunt" was implemented by "Super-Body" Fabio, on the short ends of a pair of tough Eucalyptus poles, while my wily brother took the "more challenging" [but definitely less strenuous!] long ends. Grumpy participated by lending his tried and true "Supervisory" experience -- grunting, urging and documentation photos -- to this final brute-force effort.

"Big Rock", neatly wedged into place using selected smaller rocks

After some nudging with a metal crow-bar, the BR was at last in its place, where it was neatly "tucked" with smaller rocks into its bed for future time immemorial. The physics of gravity had been overcome. But more "rocky" challenges will be forthcoming; stay tuned!

A Day at the Racetrack

Saturday, 26 May 2012; Portland International Raceway --

Although Grumpy "laid some rubber" as he entered the gate onto the straightaway, leading to the infield parking area, he did not make even one lap around this fine race track. Sorry, the "spirit" of doing "some speed" just overcame him momentarily, and he exhibited poor judgement in front of his tallest Grandson.

Instead of watching automobiles roar around the track, this day was for Human Powered Vehicles, and their riders, to challenge each other's speed, endurance and acceleration. The day became both a humbling and a rewarding experience for the Old Grumpy One. But that tale will be told later.

"Gr-rr-r!!" says J.

The night before this event, four men with the "snarkiest-attitudes" toward facing facts, met at Fort Bale for a "gourmet" dinner (Swedish style) and a night of rest and relaxation. Wait, I almost forgot! There was no relaxation for a certain Uncle of two very determined offspring of the Tall One. 

Laughter: Antidote for defeat

First J. challenged the wrestling acumen of Uncle B, a former High School wrestling team member. Each time J. wound up folded and mutilated on the big leather sofa. Laughter seemed to be the antidote for any disappointment in this (inevitable?) take-down by Uncle B.

Stealth approach

Next came A. with the dogged determination of a true crusader. Despite his fierce countenance and unique, stealth approach, he too became wound up and tied in a knot to be deposited on the leather sofa.

The next day, after a (full?) night's sleep at Fort Bale, the caravan left for the PIR, where all four had already registered as competitors. Grumpy was conservative as to what events he would participate in, saving his best for the drag races in which he believed he stood a chance against all three of his young descendants. Yes, his thought was "old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill".

At first Grumpy tried to entice a spirit of true and fair competition from the decades-younger set by offering them what Grumpy thought to be a small handicap, considering his advanced age and decrepitude: give me a 50-foot head start. No takers. 

Race official advising T.O. how to beat Grumpy

Having to do battle manu-ad-manu, Grumpy first challenged the Tall One in his yellow streamlined, wing-tank-looking tricycle. Grumpy's thought was that the extra 100-plus pounds that this monster weighed would sufficiently impede TO's ability to accelerate from a standing start to allow Grumpy to get far enough ahead and capture his first blue ribbon and some bragging rights. 

Well, that strategy failed when the Tall, Gray-haired Grandson actually overcame a slow start to blow past the final gate about two wing-tank lengths ahead of the gritty Grumpy. 

#2 Son blazing away from his Dad without remorse

Oh well; there is still hope -- [the #2 Son is riding a bicycle that is new to him; I'll surely win with my greater skill and experience on this old Raleigh!] Here he is "up in the stirrups" so to speak, blowing by Grumpy before he could even get into second gear. Poor Grumpy -- no one cared about his dejection at being so blatantly humbled, now by two of the fearsome foursome that were "friends" when we came to this event.

Still negotiating the 200M drag race; clarifying the rules

Finally, the B-man came with hat in hand, offering a deal that would grant the Old Grumpy One some "breathing room". B-man would start and run the drag course (200 meters?) in just one gear -- no hands on the handlebars (to effect extra push/pull on the pedals), after getting up to stable speed. What a deal!! Still, it seems that B-man is seen here (right), trying to coax a little "blindness" on the part of the race official overseeing the start of these races. 

Accelerating out of the "chocks", pedal to the metal!

In the end, which Grumpy won by "a nose", B-man probably lost only because he chose a notch too low a gear and "over-revved" his pedals by the mid-point in the race while Grumpy was still able to  squeeze out a smidgen more acceleration as he blew through the final gate -- his final reward for a day of hard work. [Thanks B-Man; you made my day!]

More fun, more laughs and greater rewards are not to be had in any other company than a Grandpa in friendly competition with his Son and two Grandsons -- unless a Great Grandchild or two were to join us, that is! Maybe next year -- we'll see.

Two Days of Fun with the Gang at Fort Bale -- Part 1

Wednesday 20 April 2011; Clark County Country --

After a short day's drive down the freeway, some shopping at Wal*Mart in Portland, we met the Fort Bale Gang at the Battle Ground school yard where Bee-Boo's baseball practice got underway. 

The spectators occupied the entire collapsible chair section, watching eagerly for their favorite player to do something spectacular.

We were not to be disappointed as we watched the boys do their warm-up exercises by playing "throw and catch". Our favorite player showed off his throwing form, complete with classical pitcher follow-through (I wonder who taught him that!?).

Soon the "hit-run-and-score" part of the practice session began. Here Bee-Boo demonstrated his excellent coordination in hitting the ball at each of his "up-to-bats". 

He didn't make it to first base on this first line drive, being thrown out before reaching that coveted base (steak dinners were proffered by the Dad as a special incentive!). 

 

But on his next up-to-bat, he hit a hard grounder that skipped past the pitcher's mound and was gathered up by an alert shortstop (literal meaning, here), but Bee-Boo's long legs propelled him to first base just ahead of the ball, which was dropped by the first baseman, giving him a base hit. 

Subsequently, Bee-Boo was advanced to 2nd and then, in the most exciting highlight play of the practice game, he snuck all the way home for a score! The fans went wild -- and adjourned to a nearby restaurant for a well-deserved dinner.

And the coveted steak!!

[to be continued in Part 2 of a sequel]

A Softball Game (Or How the Grand Mother and Grumpy Spent Saturday)

The Grand Mother and Grumpy drove out to a local softball arena where the youngest son of the ancestoral clan was to play in the regional tournament. If his team won (or didn't lose too badly) they would be entitled to go to the State tournament in Everett in a couple of weeks.

Darrell's first at bat yielded a base hit -- Grumpy is especially proud of getting this digital photo (above) showing both the freshly swung bat and also the ball (about ten feet in front of Darrell and about six feet off the ground, heading for an open area in left center field).

Subsequently, Grumpy got a video clip showing Darrell running to second base after the next batter got a hit and then another clip when he ran to third and then on home. Altogether, Darrell got three hits in this game (out of four at-bats), and his team won the game handily. When Grumpy figures out how to edit his video clips and to put them on a URL, it will be fun to share these bits with the readers.

In the afternoon, Darrell's team lost to a very good team when they scored six runs in the last inning to win by a score of 10-9. Grumpy thinks Darrell's team can play better ball than they played in this game and would have won if they had played well. But both teams had a good time and the Grand Mother and Grumpy were proud to watch Darrell's play, and especially happy that Darrell enjoys the game so much.