After a redeye flight from Portland to Chicago and a foggy ride from O'Hare to Appleton, yours truly can't remember going to bed last night but at 5:45 am I did wake up in our king sized bed at our home.
My Fitbit reported to me that I did get approximately two and a half hours of sleep on the plane. I don't remember that either.
What I do remember is six days in the company of friend and family, who live on the upper reaches of the left coast. The "ninth daughter" Anne Nagler lives in a wonderful neighborhood of one-hundred-year-old homes with trees and flora to match.
We took one day to explore the shoreline of the Columbia River Valley. Washougal, WA on the north bank of the Columbia River yielded its' Dalila's to Maria and Anne. I, in the true spirit of my mentor Danny Chauvin, spent my time chatting up the locals at the sales tent finding out about the history of the town.
Not unlike Wisconsin, the settlement originated when a woolen mill was built to take advantage of the power generated from the river flow. Not too much further downriver, in Camus, there is a paper mill.
Harry Barber, local fishing legend, in what turned out to be one of those it's a small world moment, revealed that in his youth, he was a student at the Paper Institute in Appleton. I returned his surprise when I introduced Maria, the Executive Director of the Paper Discovery Museum and Paper Hall of Fame, a direct descendant of the Institute which has since relocated to Georgia.
There was the Pendelton outlet store. My goodness, we kept it under a two hundred, only through self-control. (We are debating new refrigerator or new computer for Maria.)
The trip, east up the canyon, included a stop at the Booneville Dam and voyeuristic look at fish through a glass window as they contemplated their next phase of their migration to the Pacific.
We crossed the River and had an outdoor lunch at a brew pub. The meal was a memorable one for me, as it stayed with me for three days. I thought I had taken all of the jalapeno peppers out of the pulled pork Nacho's we shared.
For one and a half days, we ate, toured, and talked with this wonderful woman. Anne regaled us with stories of her trips around the area and the friends she has made in the very short time she has been here.
Maria and I went north the Seattle. The whole family was waiting for us. A trip from Anne's house in Portland to Jordan's in Sammamish should take about an hour less than ours took. The Seattle area has LA type traffic problems. We arrived at "the parking that moves at a snails pace" right at rush hour.
After a fantastic dinner, we all got up to date on everything going on in ours lives and then did what I suspect a lot of families are doing. We watched the Olympic Games in Rio.
My son was in the middle of a "Project" and therefore was not as available to us as we all might have preferred. Wen you're an independent contractor consultant there is no one to cover for you. However, he made for quantity with quality. If there is anything my DNA has done for this guy, it's the Irish ability for story telling.
The girls (My wife Maria, my daughter-in-law Anne, my two granddaughters Devon and Abbot) and I went to Ikea. I know, what a cliche. Women dragging a guy shopping when he could have been watching the first round of the John Deere Championship PGA Golf Tournament. Surprise, I like going to Ikea. My wife will tell you it's one of the only stores I enjoy shopping. And, let me be clear here, It's not just because you can get a lunch plate of meatballs and mashed potatoes at a very reasonable price. I love their stuff.
The next day, filling Maria's desire for a boat ride, we took the ferry out to Bainbridge Island. Now here we are talking about the more common one guy shopping with four gals scenario. The plan here is to establish a camp for Jeff in a park and the ladies go nuts at tourist trap junk shops.
The bad news is that most people, especially those with children, automatically shy away from old men who hang out in parks, so the opportunity to chat people up is limited.
We had such a good time. The best time was spending time with my rapidly growing, intelligent and humourous grand-daughters. We all enjoyed each other as we spent a good deal of time, doing what all families should do more often, just hanging out.
Red eye flights are for the young and the almost broke. Unfortunately, you can be almost broke when you're old. Old people should never take redeye flights. They should save their money and fly more expensive flights, at hours where they can look out the window and see the sun. Old people need their sleep. Old people can't sleep on an airplane. The pilots are too young, and they might be romancing the flight attendant instead of flying the plane. When you get elderly, you worry about these things.
From the Shores of Lake Maria and the mosquito-infested fringes of the Lucy the dogs Plain of Poop, this is Poppa Jeff at Camp Jeff wishing you all the best for this week, one of the last weeks of the summer of 2016.
My Fitbit reported to me that I did get approximately two and a half hours of sleep on the plane. I don't remember that either.
What I do remember is six days in the company of friend and family, who live on the upper reaches of the left coast. The "ninth daughter" Anne Nagler lives in a wonderful neighborhood of one-hundred-year-old homes with trees and flora to match.
We took one day to explore the shoreline of the Columbia River Valley. Washougal, WA on the north bank of the Columbia River yielded its' Dalila's to Maria and Anne. I, in the true spirit of my mentor Danny Chauvin, spent my time chatting up the locals at the sales tent finding out about the history of the town.
Not unlike Wisconsin, the settlement originated when a woolen mill was built to take advantage of the power generated from the river flow. Not too much further downriver, in Camus, there is a paper mill.
Harry Barber, local fishing legend, in what turned out to be one of those it's a small world moment, revealed that in his youth, he was a student at the Paper Institute in Appleton. I returned his surprise when I introduced Maria, the Executive Director of the Paper Discovery Museum and Paper Hall of Fame, a direct descendant of the Institute which has since relocated to Georgia.
There was the Pendelton outlet store. My goodness, we kept it under a two hundred, only through self-control. (We are debating new refrigerator or new computer for Maria.)
The trip, east up the canyon, included a stop at the Booneville Dam and voyeuristic look at fish through a glass window as they contemplated their next phase of their migration to the Pacific.
We crossed the River and had an outdoor lunch at a brew pub. The meal was a memorable one for me, as it stayed with me for three days. I thought I had taken all of the jalapeno peppers out of the pulled pork Nacho's we shared.
For one and a half days, we ate, toured, and talked with this wonderful woman. Anne regaled us with stories of her trips around the area and the friends she has made in the very short time she has been here.
Maria and I went north the Seattle. The whole family was waiting for us. A trip from Anne's house in Portland to Jordan's in Sammamish should take about an hour less than ours took. The Seattle area has LA type traffic problems. We arrived at "the parking that moves at a snails pace" right at rush hour.
After a fantastic dinner, we all got up to date on everything going on in ours lives and then did what I suspect a lot of families are doing. We watched the Olympic Games in Rio.
My son was in the middle of a "Project" and therefore was not as available to us as we all might have preferred. Wen you're an independent contractor consultant there is no one to cover for you. However, he made for quantity with quality. If there is anything my DNA has done for this guy, it's the Irish ability for story telling.
The girls (My wife Maria, my daughter-in-law Anne, my two granddaughters Devon and Abbot) and I went to Ikea. I know, what a cliche. Women dragging a guy shopping when he could have been watching the first round of the John Deere Championship PGA Golf Tournament. Surprise, I like going to Ikea. My wife will tell you it's one of the only stores I enjoy shopping. And, let me be clear here, It's not just because you can get a lunch plate of meatballs and mashed potatoes at a very reasonable price. I love their stuff.
The next day, filling Maria's desire for a boat ride, we took the ferry out to Bainbridge Island. Now here we are talking about the more common one guy shopping with four gals scenario. The plan here is to establish a camp for Jeff in a park and the ladies go nuts at tourist trap junk shops.
The bad news is that most people, especially those with children, automatically shy away from old men who hang out in parks, so the opportunity to chat people up is limited.
We had such a good time. The best time was spending time with my rapidly growing, intelligent and humourous grand-daughters. We all enjoyed each other as we spent a good deal of time, doing what all families should do more often, just hanging out.
Red eye flights are for the young and the almost broke. Unfortunately, you can be almost broke when you're old. Old people should never take redeye flights. They should save their money and fly more expensive flights, at hours where they can look out the window and see the sun. Old people need their sleep. Old people can't sleep on an airplane. The pilots are too young, and they might be romancing the flight attendant instead of flying the plane. When you get elderly, you worry about these things.
From the Shores of Lake Maria and the mosquito-infested fringes of the Lucy the dogs Plain of Poop, this is Poppa Jeff at Camp Jeff wishing you all the best for this week, one of the last weeks of the summer of 2016.
Comments
Post a Comment